Broken Shadows
by lovelicious
Summary: Misery engulfs Hermione as she loses Draco to Azkaban. When she finds her consolation in a cunningly enchanted diary, she inadvertently trusts it a bit too much. Talking to someone she only thinks she knows is not safe -nor is pouring out her soul to him.
1. Chapter 1: Behind Her Smile

**Disclaimer: **Sadly, I don't own Harry Potter. Sigh.

**Author's Note: **Hello! This is my first Dramione fan fiction! The story happens in the seventh year. Just to let you know, I kept Dumbledore alive in my story though he doesn't appear too much. There's not very much to say here right now, but I really hope you enjoy this chapter! Please review! It would mean so much to me :)

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Chapter 1 - Behind Her Smile

She opened the Head Boy's bedroom door as quietly as she could, though she knew there was no need to be discreet. He did not occupy this room since two weeks before Christmas Eve, and now it has already been a month since then. As she surveyed the room, her heart plummeted, like it did every time she came.

Grief stuck in her throat as she walked forward slowly and silently. She stroked the green and silver cloak that still lay on his bed, breathing in its scent. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture him sitting near her. She tried to imagine that he was back, and they were once again having a silly dispute. Their debates were always about trivial subjects, such as the thickness of cauldron bottoms, or their preferred professors. He was intelligent, she admitted, and that was what made the whole thing a challenge for her. They would always end up laughing in spite of themselves. It was a strange way to have a good time, but with those delicate moments they slowly took first steps toward the path of friendship.

She could not stay in the room any longer; it made everything unbearably reminiscent. She had always shown strength in front of him, so why wouldn't she do the same, even if he wasn't there? Trembling, she put down the cloak and ran out of the dormitory up to the library, where she could find her only solace. Opening a book, she summoned all the determination that remained inside her, trying to immerse herself in it. Again and again, she failed. Where could she go if the library had failed her? Or rather, where could she go if her concentration had failed it?

Sighing bitterly, she placed the book back on the shelf and stumbled out of the library, deciding to take a walk to calm herself down. Remembering the time when he would have followed her just to be there, she bit her lip and dug her nails into her hands to concentrate on a physical pain instead of the pain she was suffering emotionally.

Even though they were barely acquaintances, and had been enemies for the past six years, she had grown fond of him when she'd seen his true self. He wasn't as selfish and arrogant as she once thought. Her dislike of him slowly transformed into friendship - and after that, more than never told him about her feelings because she was afraid of what he'd say in return - after all, she was a Mudblood. She didn't realize he was going to leave before Christmas, which was the day she was planning on letting him know that she loved him.

What if he never came back, and she never told him?

She felt ashamed of herself for being mad at him before he left. It was hard to remember through the many thoughts whirling through her head, but she knew what she yelled at him was horrible. She recalled opening the door the next morning and seeing the flowers he had left for her... She didn't think to appreciate them. It was the last thing he'd given to her before he left Hogwarts, and she had left the flowers to die.

"You don't know what you have until it's gone," she whispered barely audibly to herself, her voice breaking. It was so true.

Silent tears started to stream down her face. It was not like the countless times before, when she had cried and screamed herself hoarse and pummeled her pillows till she could not find any more strength. This time was different. All her emotions flashed through her head. She could feel them, but could not translate them into words.

She blundered on through the corridors, her legs taking her wherever they wanted to go. Her vision was blurred by tears that were still flowing continuously. She felt as if she could cry forever. Her heart ached, heavy from the burden of the grief she had experienced for the past three weeks.

Buried in thought, she crashed right into two people who were roaming the corridors alone her blurred vision preventing her from noticing them in her way. Without apologizing or acknowledging them at all, she kept right on walking, keeping her head down. Her tears fell more slowly now, but they were steady and still held infinite meaning with every droplet.

"Hermione!"

She heard the familiar voices of Harry and Ron behind her, only now realizing that they were the two people she had collided with, and hurried along slightly faster. She did not want to talk with anybody at the moment, not even her best friends.

They called again. "Hermione! Wait up!"

She could hear their footsteps quickening. Her heart pounding, she started to run. She didn't look where she was going, not that she could, being blinded by her watery eyes.

When she could run no more, she stopped to look out a window before Harry and Ron finally caught up. It was sunny, and many people were outside, enjoying the first bit of warmth for a while during the harsh, cold winter. She heard their merry laughter and was suddenly angry. How could their lives carry on so peacefully when hers had crashed down around her ears, beyond her control?

She felt a hand on her arm. "Hermione," came Harry's soothing voice. "What's wrong?"

She did not reply. With anguish clogging her throat, she did not want comfort or company at the moment, so she did not turn around to look at her friends.

Ron, who was still acting a little awkwardly with Hermione ever since she broke up with him earlier in the year, gave Harry a sidelong glance before speaking. "Hermione," he said cautiously. "Could you answer us, please?"

She shook her head vigorously. Her decision was resolute; she did not want any sympathy. She could take this alone, no problem! Why wouldn't she be able to handle this stress? She dealt with her homework and exams just fine... Her tears splattered onto the front of her robes.

For a few minutes, the tense silence was broken only by the occasional quiet sniffs from Hermione until Harry spoke again. "You have to tell us what's wrong. How else could we help you?"

She finally found her voice. She closed her eyes, took a steadying breath, and turned around. "No one can help me," she said shakily. Harry gripped her arm a bit more forcefully than necessary.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! Just tell us, we're your best friends!" Ron said quite impatiently. Hermione shot him a withering look that made his headstrong gaze drop to his feet. Harry gave him a very disapproving glance.

"You can confide in us," Harry murmured softly. "We're here for you."

She shook her head and started to walk away again, her tears resuming their frantic rush once more.

"You're being unreasonable!" she heard Ron yell. He never had much patience, really, and his temper was especially short because Lavender was ticking him off by flirting with him all the time. He was also miffed with Hermione for misunderstanding, insisting that Lavender kissed him against his will. "Tell us already! Stop being a prat!"

Suddenly she snapped out of her misery as anger took over her mind for a brief moment. It eased her slightly of her misery, and she was glad for it. With a burst of her old fiery spirit, she sprinted down the corridors, surprising even herself with her speed. She heard them following her. Silently she wished them to go away and leave her alone, but they didn't. When she finally slowed to a stop, the fire inside of her was quenched, and she could do nothing other than slump to the ground.

They found her sitting, huddled, near the portrait to the head's dormitory. She had her knees tucked to her chest, looking vulnerable and scared. "I miss him," she said to nobody in particular, her eyes donning a vacant expression as she gazed at something Harry and Ron could not see. "I miss him so much."

Harry and Ron exchanged curious glances.

"Who's he?" Harry asked quietly. He did not expect an answer, and he did not receive one.

Hermione stood up slowly and walked into her dormitory, shutting the door in Harry and Ron's faces to prevent them from following and worsening her mood. Once inside, she looked around the common room, wishing he was there. But when had any of her wishes come true?

She made her way to her room, moving as little as possible, because she felt as if something inside of her would spill if she was not careful with staying upright. Her tears had stopped running, her mind frozen in shock. Realization dawned on her again, like every other time she had let out her feelings.

"Draco." It was the first time she had used his name in a very long time, and it hurt her even more. Her voice was raspy, like she hadn't used it in a while.

He was charged with attempted murder during the summer, and his trial was two weeks before Christmas Eve. It did not go well. All the evidence pointed to him, and he was sent to Azkaban without further ado. That was it. He wasn't even allowed to come back to Hogwarts to say goodbye.

To say that Hermione was furious with the Ministry of Magic was an understatement. How could they have possibly sent a seventeen-year old boy to the wizard prison, where older and greater men before him lost their minds, unable to find the strength to carry on their miserable existences? They refused to even let him finish his education. Then she reminded herself, _again_, that Draco was a Death Eater, and therefore a danger to the public... Confused with her feelings, Hermione decided to stick to the emotion of reminiscence and longing. She felt selfish for wanting him back, even if it meant risking the safety of everybody else. But she felt slightly less terrible as she reasoned with herself, reminding herself of what she lost. Who would be there to comfort her when she was scared of the dark during their evening patrols? Who would be there to cheer her up with a lighthearted debate every night? Harry and Ron were still her friends but they were a bit more distant, now that they were separated into different dormitories. Ginny was too busy with her new friends and increased popularity to hang out with someone who was in the library all day, like Hermione. So who would be there for her, now that _he_ was gone?

She prayed that he was safe and unharmed by the Dementors. The Dementors... She shook her head again, shuddering at the very thought. Her vision started to blur again.

Then she remembered the flowers, and what she had said to him before he had left. She knew that if she could go back in time and change anything, she would not leave the flowers to die... nor say what she had said...

She staggered to her bed, and buried her face into her pillow.

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**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed it! Please don't ditch the story - it's going to get interesting sooner than you think!

A review would be greatly appreciated! Kindly remember, more reviews equals more updates! Thanks!


	2. Chapter 2: No Closer

**Disclaimer: **The thought of not owning Harry Potter is depressing.

**Author's Note: **Here's the second chapter! As I said, the interesting parts begin here... Hope you enjoy it, and please review! Without further ado:

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Chapter 2 - No Closer

"Draco?"

Hermione walked forward, hardly daring to believe what she was seeing, her eyes filling up with hope as she saw the back of a platinum blond head in front of her. She walked as fast as she could, but every step she took seemed to only bring her further away from him. Confused, she broke into a run. "Draco, wait for me!" If he had heard her, he did not respond. Panting, she stopped. As soon as she stopped running, he did too. But when she took another tentative step forward, she was still no closer to him than before. Her shoulders sagging in despair, she turned around and left.

The scene changed.

Draco was sitting against a wall, his legs pulled up against his chest. Hermione walked slowly toward him, holding her breath. She was relieved that he did not appear to get further again. Softly calling his name, she approached him and sat down next to him tentatively. He did not acknowledge her.

"Why won't you talk to me?" she whispered sadly after they sat in silence for a long while. Taking him under the chin, she turned his head toward her, but he still said nothing. Finally noticing his eyes, she screamed in horror - they were the usual grey colour, but they weren't as stormy and conflicted. They were blank and empty. Almost lifeless.

A slight breeze came in through an open window and she relished the chill. She thought she could hear the wind speaking to her. "He's not there."

"Then where is he?" she cried in anguish, but the wind made no response. It was maddening.

The Draco with the blank eyes stared at her. There was no spark of recognition or scorn. She shook him by his shoulders. "Draco, where are you? Where's your soul?" But his body was cold and limp. Unable to take his emptiness anymore, she stood him up against the wall, deciding to vent her feelings, and yelled at him irrationally for what seemed like a very long time. "It's all your fault! It's _all_ your fault I'm like this! For almost a _month_ now, I haven't been able to sleep properly or concentrate on anything but you, and now that I found you in my dreams, you won't even _talk _to me!" she shouted. "It's stupid, that's what it is! What's the matter with you? You're a tough guy! Come back from Azkaban! Come back to Hogwarts! Come back to _me_!"

Draco remained motionless, indifferent. Hermione slumped down to the ground and lay in a heap, crying like she had never cried before. Being irrational certainly made her feel a lot better, but she was so caught up with her renewed loneliness that she did not notice the improvement. The stone ground disappeared, and she woke up.

Hermione got up, an empty feeling filling her. As she stood up, her feet touched the bare stone ground and she shivered from the cold.

As she stumbled into the bathroom, she flinched at her reflection. She could see the dark circles and bags under her eyes - the effects of not having a good sleep. She'd been like this ever since Draco went to Azkaban. Tonight was the first night she had gotten any sleep, however fitful.

As she grimaced at herself in the mirror, she heard a drawer opening in Draco's room and froze. Curious, she put her ear against the bathroom door leading to his room, trying to hear what was happening on the other side of the wall. She distinctly heard a drawer opening, a gentle thump of something seemingly heavy, and the closing of the drawer. As she turned the squeaky knob of the door to go in to see who dared to intrude on Draco's privacy, she heard a male voice gasping, and the door to the common room opening and slamming.

Quickly she wrenched the door open and looked around the room. There was nobody in sight. She went to the door that had been slammed a few moments ago, and looked on the ground. There laid a small Slytherin crest, undoubtedly torn off someone's uniform accidentally. And that someone was a Slytherin boy who was Draco's friend, since he knew the password. Frowning, she looked at the drawers but she realized she was short of time, so instead of investigating further, she changed into her uniform and left for breakfast.

"Hermione?" Harry asked quietly as he saw her coming to the table with a single tear trickling down her cheek.

"I'm okay," she said almost inaudibly, plopped down on the bench, and took the smallest muffin on the platter in front of her.

"You're still friends with Ron, right?" he decided to say just to make conversation. She nodded, and they ate in silence for a while after that.

"I've got Divination first block, so I'll see you at Double Potions with the Slytherins in second block, okay?"

Hermione nodded blankly, adopting the expression Draco wore in her dream. Ron came to the table and bid a good morning to her, but she did not respond, let alone look at him. She left the table to go to Arithmancy soon after, leaving the muffin she had only eaten a nibble of.

"Hello, Miss Granger," Professor Vector greeted her warmly as she entered the classroom.

Hermione smiled weakly at her. "Good morning, Professor," she said before sitting down.

"Are you all right, my dear?" Professor Vector asked her quietly, approaching her desk. "I've noticed a few changes in you. You don't seem to be sleeping enough, and your grades are dropping quite a bit below your usual standards. What's wrong?"

"Nothing, Professor. I'm fine." She did not want a professor prying in her incredibly entangled emotions. She did not have enough strength for that.

Professor Vector frowned quizzically. "Now, I'm sure it's not nothing. Something must be making you seem so down like this!"

Hermione just shook her head. Professor Vector sighed resignedly and patted her on the back. "Well, you can talk to me if you need someone to talk to," she said before walking away. Hermione knew she would probably not talk to anybody, especially not to a professor.

She sat through class, paying no attention to the lesson, which was most unlike her. Professor Vector was kind enough to accept her behaviour and not call on her for answers.

The bell rang, and she gathered her things quickly and left for the dungeons. It reminded her of Draco, and she let another tear fall. Why was she so sensitive all of a sudden? Was it because she did not believe Draco was ever coming back, a pessimistic voice hissed in her mind? The thought itself was like a blow to her stomach and she felt winded.

Professor Snape drifted into class, looking like a very large bat as always. Everybody else was seated, but Hermione was standing at the door, staring at Draco's empty spot with wide, watery eyes.

"We're waiting, Miss Granger." Snape said sharply without turning around as he flicked his wand at the board to make the instructions appear.

Barely hearing him, she did not reply. Her heartbeat was ringing in her ears. She felt distant from the world, as if when Draco left, he took her soul with him and left her body behind. She could vaguely hear other students whispering all around her.

"Ten points from Gryffindor. I'm tired of your moping. Now if you don't sit down, I will take off more points!" Snape hissed vehemently. She could not believe how insensitive he was being. Did he even know why she was sad?

When again she made no movement, Harry approached her and took her arm to lead her gently to her seat. Throughout class, Harry kept giving her sympathetic looks. Finding them a bit disturbing, she moved away from him just a little.

Realizing she didn't have adequate asphodel, she went to get some more from the ingredients cupboard. Blaise Zabini, who was already getting something from the cupboard, looked mildly surprised to see her.

"How are you, Granger?" he asked.

She shot him a look, surprised partly by the fact that he even spoke to her, and partly by the stupidity of his question. "Bad, thanks," she replied curtly.

When he chuckled, she wanted to punch his face off.

"Stop laughing," she snapped. "There's nothing funny about the situation."

"It's ridiculous how much you miss a Slytherin, especially when this particular Slytherin was your enemy for the past six years, Granger." He shook his head, still smiling in an annoyingly smug way.

"He meant a lot to me," she breathed bitterly, like she was finally admitting it to herself, but Blaise did not hear her. She rummaged in the cupboard, trying to find the box labelled 'asphodel'.

"I can't bear seeing you _that_ sad," he said quietly and abruptly after a moment of silence. "Nobody deserves it. I'll tell you a secret about him, okay?" She nodded, immediately alert. "He keeps something special in his top drawer. It wouldn't hurt if you checked it out..." he hinted, winking.

"How would you know?" She gave him a suspicious glance.

"I'm his best friend. He tells me everything."

In the back of her mind, something screamed at her not to trust this information because she knew that Draco had no friends, only followers and bodyguards. But she was so eager to find out his secret, anything about him that would make her feel closer to him, that she took Blaise's word.

"Thank you." She cracked a small smile.

Blaise shrugged. "Nobody deserves that much pain," he repeated, and left to sit down.

While she was still taking herbs and roots from the cupboard, she did not notice that there was a sneaky, triumphant smile playing on Blaise's lips, tainting his usually sober expression with a devious look.

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**A/N: **Did you like it? Dislike it? Please let me know in a review!

Also, thank you to my wonderful betas Vanilla Cookie and D.21! -virtual hug!-


	3. Chapter 3: Fight Again

**Disclaimer:** J.K. Rowling is the brilliant person that thought up Harry Potter. I had nothing to do with it.

**A/N:** Really, nothing to say here except THANK YOU FOR READING! I hope you like it so far, it took me a long time to write. Please keep going! Hope you enjoy it! Vanilla Cookie and D.21, many many many thanks for being amazing betas! :)

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Chapter 3 - Shed Those Tears and Fight Again

Hermione woke up the next morning, her eyes puffy from crying herself to sleep yet again. After glancing at her clock, she realized she woke up a tad too early for classes or breakfast. So she sat up in her bed groggily, not really knowing what to do. Splashing cold water on her face quickly, she suddenly remembered Blaise's advice to look in Draco's drawer. After a moment's hesitation, she headed towards Draco's room again, willing herself not to weep. She was tired of crying.

"Get a grip," she muttered to herself.

She opened the door just as quietly as the last time, and looked around his room although she already knew what she would see. Her eyes passed over the neatly made bed with the cloak on it, his wardrobe with the many fine robes which were undoubtedly very expensive, the desk on which parchment and quills were still littered all over, and his drawer. She squinted at it, approaching tentatively. There was nothing special about it, and she hadn't paid much attention to it until Blaise mentioned it yesterday.

Pulling the top drawer open, she found a small diary. "I can't read that," she reminded herself. She turned away from it, unwilling to invade his privacy even in his absence. She was also a little afraid of what she would find in there, though she would never admit that to anybody. Her eyes fell on another book. It looked old and ragged, but that didn't bother her. She had read many old books that held a lot of interesting information. She opened it cautiously.

There was nothing in it, but the pages looked very worn and weathered. Just holding the book gave Hermione a slightly eerie feeling, as if there was something special inside of it that she could not see. Deciding to check if it had any special powers or if there was anything written in invisible ink, she tapped the diary with her wand: "_Specialis Revelio_!" Nothing happened. Taking out her quill because there was not much else she could do, she hesitantly wrote a small "Draco?" in black on the very first page. The ink shone and disappeared. Despite how much she did not want to take something of his, she felt like it would be wrong to leave it with nobody to make use of it anyway, so she brought it back to her room.

Closing the door behind her, she opened the book again. On the page she had written on, words were forming in green ink as if written by an invisible hand.

_Who are you?_

With a gasp of surprise, she scrambled to write back. _I am Hermione Granger. Who are you? _

_Draco Malfoy. _

The words glittered on the page. Hermione stared in shock before snapping out of it to reply. His words faded as she wrote back. She smirked slightly to herself; of course he'd write in green. _How are we talking? Aren't you in Azkaban?_

There was a slight pause before the words started forming, as if this Draco had to think before he replied._This diary is a part of my soul. That is how we are talking. I am not in Azkaban anymore. The Dementors took their toll. I am dead._

She drew in a sharp breath, her eyes filling with angry tears. Clutching her pillow to her chest, she let out a shuddering sigh. But when she wrote, her hands were steady and she was stubbornly refusing to give in to the pain. _Will you be here, in this diary, to talk to me all the time, then? _

_Yes, as long as you don't destroy the diary. If you destroy it, this last piece of my soul will be gone too. _

She nodded though there was nobody to see her nod, hugged the precious diary to her chest, and opened up her emotions to him. _I miss you so much._

_I miss you too, Hermione. I wish I said goodbye. _

Hermione pressed her lips together to stop herself from making any sound. A suspicious thought blossomed in her mind. Did Draco have feelings for her when he was still alive? Did he ever miss _anyone_? "Silly Hermione, of course he did. You just haven't been friends with him so he never showed you," she told herself, grinning, and picked up her quill again. _I wish you did too. I wish you could be back here with me. I don't know what to do without you._

_You are not without me. I'm still here, and I'm here for you. _

Hermione smiled sadly and their conversation was paused for a few minutes during which Hermione gazed out the window to watch the beautiful sunrise. She then checked the clock again, and wrote back. _I have to go to class now. Do you want to come with me?_

_It is up to you. If you bring me along, you can write to me during class. But promise me one thing._

Hermione wrote back, eyes shining with excitement. _Yes?_

_Don't let anybody else know about this._

It already felt like something she shouldn't tell anybody. Something too special to reveal. She had no reason to be reluctant in responding. _I won't._

oOoOo

_I'm at Potions. It's weird not having you sitting in front of me._ Hermione wrote in the diary, simultaneously stirring her potion. Harry sat next to her, giving her an occasional concerned look. She felt lightened of her burden, now that she had a piece of Draco with her. She ignored Harry's curious, questioning stares.

_I'm sorry I'm not there._

Hermione froze, staring at the page. She had never heard him say sorry before. Draco Malfoy _never_ said sorry; he'd mentioned that before to her in one of their conversations earlier this year... He told her he never said sorry and meant it. He'd also asked her to define love and what it feels like.

"What is it like to love?" he had asked her, but she shook her head, telling him that it was impossible to translate into words. If he didn't know how to apologize, if he didn't know what love - or affectionate emotions in general - meant or felt like, why was he saying something like that now? Maybe this was a part of his soul that could apologize and be grateful for things? She wrote back in a straightforward manner, biting her lip in confusion. _I've never heard you apologize before._

She smiled slightly as she read his response.

_Maybe that's due to the fact we've been enemies for the past six years. _

She bit her lip a little harder to stop herself from laughing out loud. They were supposed to be brewing a Blood-Replenishing Potion, which was not easy. She threw in a little bit of asphodel and ginger, stirred her cauldron twice clockwise, and resumed writing.

_I didn't really HATE you, you know..._ she decided to write, another smile dancing mischievously on her lips, the lively sparkle returning to her eyes.

_Yeah, says the girl that punched me in the face during third year._

Everything seemed quite hilarious now that she had him back. She burst into laughter, earning herself a deadly glare from Professor Snape. She put her fist into her mouth to stifle her laughter and giggled silently instead. She liked this new feeling of giddiness and excitement, which contrasted so sharply with the misery she'd felt for the last month. Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron, who was staring at her incredulously. "What happened to the sobbing girl we were chasing the other day?" Ron mouthed. Harry shrugged.

_You know I'm sorry about that, Draco! I told you this year, when we became friends._ She was reluctant to put the word "friends" because she was unsure of it. They never really talked about their friendship.

_Yes, but it was still agonizing not to be able to smirk without pain! I couldn't smirk for two whole weeks!_

Hermione blushed as she wrote her reply without thinking about it first. _You're better looking without the smirk, anyway. _

_I know. But I must uphold the Malfoy code - smirk, always! _

_Really? That's actually part of the code? _She raised her eyebrows.

_No, I was kidding. Jeez, where's your sense of humour? _

She bit her lip again and looked up at her boiling potion. She added a bit of fluxweed and took her spoon. While one hand was stirring, the other wrote a reply. _I've got a better sense of humour than you. _

_Whatever. _

She looked around, unsure how to reply. _Are you mad? _she wrote tentatively in case she had offended him and made him angry. She hoped she hadn't; if she was going to lose her happiness, it'd be too soon.

Harry glanced at her. "What are you writing?" he inquired, finally giving in to curiosity.

She shot a sneaky look at him. "I'm experimenting with my potion today. I'm not following the instructions except for the ingredients, so I'm recording everything I do." Her stomach squirmed. She didn't like lying to him.

Harry laughed, seeming satisfied with her answer, which made her stomach wriggle a little bit more. "That's my Hermione." She smiled vaguely, feeling guilty, and looked back at the diary, which now held a response. She burst out laughing again.

_No, I am quite sane, thank you very much._

Professor Snape looked up from marking essays and shot her an irritated look. "Ten points from Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for disrupting the class."

A few days ago, she might have been bothered by this and in tears by now. Since she had this form of Draco back, she felt like she had not a care in the world, so she grinned angelically up at Snape. "Okay," she said lightly. After all, ten points wasn't a lot to lose. Snape gave her a suspicious look and went back to grading papers. Many people looked her way. Some people had expressions of confusion, others wore sneers at her being reprimanded. Blaise looked at her with a calculating expression on his face. A few Gryffindors looked bemused. She did not care.

_So you do have a sense of humour! _she scribbled on the page, still stirring the potion in her cauldron that was now frothing and bubbling.

_Glad you figured that out for yourself. I thought you were the smartest witch in our year!_

Hermione grimaced inwardly, not knowing how to reply. She stirred her potion a little bit faster and poured an excessive quantity of armadillo bile into the cauldron. It turned a brilliant blue and made a slight hissing noise. Furrowing her brow, she stirred it counterclockwise.

The potion exploded and the cauldron's contents drenched everybody in the vicinity. "Oops!" she giggled as she noticed everybody's shocked expressions. "Sorry guys! _Scourgify!_"she said with a flourish, waving her wand with a sweep across the room, and the potion on everybody's robes cleaned off immediately. "Sorry, Professor!"

Professor Snape stood up again, seething, and stalked over to her table. "What is the matter with you, Granger?"

"Nothing! I just stirred too fast and put in too much armadillo bile."

"You stupid girl, armadillo bile isn't even in the _recipe_. In fact, you don't even have your textbook in front of you!" Snape snapped, eyes flashing.

"Silly me, must have forgotten," she said airily. Usually nobody would have gotten away with calling Hermione Granger stupid. But today, her mind was off in a little happy world of her own.

Snape leaned closer to her. "Explain to me how you would have made the potion without the recipe, Miss Granger."

"I don't know, I would improvise?" she responded brightly, and Harry laughed.

"Ten points from Gryffindor! I will not tolerate your rudeness!" Snape snarled. "Now open your textbook and _get to work_!"

"Yes, Professor Snape." Hermione lowered her head, rolled her eyes, and wrote in the diary again. _Snape just blew up at me because I exploded my potion. _

_Let's talk when you're not in class, all right? It would be safer._

She smiled. _I'll talk to you later then._ Closing it, she put it in her bag. It was unfortunate that she did not remember - or _would_ not remember - about Ginny's incident in second year. But since they weren't as close as before, Hermione didn't bother to think about Ginny. She knew a bit about what had happened in her second year but since her mind was rid of thoughts about Ginny Weasley, she did not realize the danger. All she cared about was what she got back today.

When something is taken from you and you miss it sorely, you will indulge in it when it is given back to you, and that was happening to Hermione now. She did not even realize that it was odd to have a diary have a conversation with you; she was too caught up in having her dormitory partner's soul back. At least it was better than nothing, she thought. A lot better than nothing, actually.

She was so much happier than she was two weeks ago that she refused to listen to the feeble gut instinct that was telling her that she was in danger, and this part of "Draco's soul" was nothing but trouble.

* * *

**A/N:**A bit of comic relief! Whew! After the two intense chapters before! I hope you enjoyed it - please tell me if you liked it or not (and why!) in a review! Thank you for reading so far, please keep going! :)


	4. Chapter 4: Cold Fire

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything Potter-related except for my plots :)

**A/N: **The chapter (and a few chapters after this one) begins with a flashback. I labeled it with the date too because I might skip a few weeks between flashbacks. After the line break, it's present day. Hope it's not too confusing! Thank you to Vanilla Cookie and D. M. Lover21! You are super wonderful and I couldn't have done this without you! :)

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Chapter 4 - Cold Fire

Flashback - September 2nd:

Hermione gave the password to the portrait that was blocking the entrance to her new dormitory and walked in, wondering who the Head Boy would be. Professor McGonagall had said that it would be quite a surprise, and she smiled to herself, because she liked surprises. She'd be delighted if Harry or Ron were Head Boy, but she knew they hadn't been chosen because they did not have Head badges. Still, she tried to have an optimistic view about things. The head boy had to be someone responsible, and with good sense, didn't he?

But as she stepped into the room, all air left her lungs. Instead of gasping, she pursed her lips and glared at the Head Boy with narrowed eyes. Draco Malfoy faced her wearily, his hands in his pockets, showing no sign of aggression...yet.

Professor McGonagall told her it would be a surprise, not a shock! She thought indignantly, frowning. He flashed a classic Malfoy smirk at her, which made her simmer with anger promptly. They stood in silence, looking at each other in disgust, before Hermione sighed and decided they were being very immature for two seventh-year Head students.

"So you're Head Boy," she said stiffly, with no expression in her voice, still disbelieving that he would be chosen for such an honour. She felt that_ she _deserved it; she had a clean record and top marks on every exam - but did he, really? After all the trouble he had caused for the past six years?

"So I am." He crossed his arms.

"Well, I definitely can't say I'm not surprised, but congratulations," she muttered coolly and grudgingly offered to shake hands. He looked down on her outstretched hand in disgust.

"Can't touch a Mudblood," he sneered, putting his hands behind his back pointedly.

Hermione rolled her eyes impatiently. She wasn't exactly surprised. "You haven't changed much over the summer, have you."

"What makes you think I would change, Granger?" he asked softly, hardening his expression slightly. His stance made her uncomfortable, and she was a little afraid to look into his eyes.

Huffing, Hermione made her way across the common room to her room. "You're annoying." It was a childish thing to say, but she liked the choice of words for their simplicity and wonderfully blunt edge.

"Look who's talking."

"You were, just now." She put her hand on the doorknob, somehow unwilling to go. He was clever enough to keep their argument going, and she admired that, though she would never admit it to anybody. He was a better debater than Harry or Ron, anyway.

"You were too." He smirked.

"Just shut up and leave me alone," she snapped.

He laughed without mirth. "You're the one who started this conversation in the first place!"

"Only because you were here, and I have manners!" she shouted and whipped around to glare at him, her hand clenched very tightly on the doorknob. Whatever admiration she had felt a few heartbeats before faded in the light of her fury. "And I know what you're going to say, so don't even bother wasting your breath by calling me a Mudblood. I deserve magic as much as you do, and my parentage is not my fault! It's stupid how you think blood really matters so much," she spat at him.

Draco took a small step forward but stopped when she recoiled. "That's probably the only bit of me you've been exposed to," he said quietly.

Narrowing her eyes, she let go of the doorknob and crossed her arms. "Oh yeah? Well, it feels like I've been exposed to you too much. I think I can say I know _quite a bit_ about you, and I don't like _any_ of it." Her heart automatically twisted with guilt at the harshness of her words, but she immediately reminded herself that she was talking to Draco Malfoy.

If Draco was stung by her words, he didn't show it. When he spoke, his voice was soft and dangerous. "You don't know _anything_ about me."

She must have felt the awkward change from heat to frostiness and not have known how to respond, because she wrenched the door to her room open and disappeared inside without another word.

Frowning in frustration, Draco quickly ran a hand through his sleek hair. It was a bit too soon for a fight, he thought, stepping closer to her door. He honestly didn't mean to antagonize her; she just couldn't take in the fact that Draco was not just a spoiled rich boy. There were more sides to him than that. He raised his hand to knock, to make up to her by having perhaps a friendlier conversation, but hesitated when he heard someone talking. Though the door was closed, his frown grew more pronounced when he heard a distinct "I hate you." He didn't know who she was talking about exactly, but it sure wasn't difficult to guess.

He let his hand fall to his side, his expression stony. Wondering what in the world possessed him to make him want to have a friendly conversation with the Mudblood, Draco trudged into his own room to retire for the night.

* * *

_You there?_ Hermione wrote. She still wasn't sure if the soul in the diary would leave to go somewhere else, like portraits, or stay in the diary all the time.

_I've got nowhere else to go. Of course I'm here._

She sighed sympathetically. _At least you've got connection to the world, even if you're dead. _Hermione had learned to accept that this was the best she could get of him, and he wasn't exactly completely dead if part of his soul was still in the diary. He just didn't have a body, a true form. Every day after each class, she would rush back to her room just to say hi to Draco, and hurry back to her next class. Her professors noticed the change in her and were glad to welcome the bright girl's joyful spirit back.

_I wish I had the freedom to leave this thing and come back, though. _His words sounded extremely bitter; Hermione could imagine his scowl.

She waited till the words disappeared. _I'd help you if I could..._

_Oh, but you _can_ help me._

Her eyes lit up with interest and she leaned forward. She could? _How?_

_Just keep talking to me, okay? It makes me feel stronger and more ... human for some reason._

She smiled at the prospect of being able to help him while doing something very enjoyable. _Of course I'll keep talking to you. _She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to stop, anyway.

* * *

**A/N: **As always, a review would make me smile! :)


	5. Chapter 5: Puppet

**Disclaimer: **If you've read the last 4 chapters, you would know that I don't own Harry Potter. :)

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Chapter 5 - Puppet

Flashback - September 8:

Heaving a bag full of heavy books, Hermione finally managed to stumble into the common room.

"What's that, the library?" Malfoy snorted, looking up from his Charms essay.

Hermione ignored him. Sitting down across from him, she hauled a few of the books onto the table and slammed them down as loud as she could just to bug him. He looked up at her, amused, and turned back to his work. She picked up her quill and started to compose her own Charms essay, flipping through the books for reference.

In half an hour, she had written three feet and a half of parchment with tiny writing, and was still scribbling. Draco stared at her incredulously, "You're mad."

She glowered at him for a moment, but her hand never stopped flying over the page.

Draco cleared his throat. "You're mad," he repeated, a little bit louder.

She closed her eyes, willing herself not to explode, not pausing her swift writing motions. Instead she concentrated on what she was writing rather than his voice ringing in her ear. Her thoughts spun around her quickly; she was so wrapped up in her work that it seemed like she was in her own world.

"YOU'RE MAD!" Draco yelled.

Startled, Hermione jumped. "What's the matter with you?" she said furiously. "Can't you see I'm trying to work here?"

Faking an innocent angelic smile, he propped his head up with his arm to watch her more comfortably. "I didn't notice that. Oops."

She growled, stabbing her quill into her bottle of ink. Didn't notice, sure...

Half an hour later, they were both finished their essays. She stood up, gathered her stuff, and marched in the direction of her room without a word.

"It's boring in here, with only you to keep me company. Why won't you talk to me?" Draco asked in an annoyingly whiny voice.

She spun around, glaring. "Because every time I do, you insult me, and the conversation gets _annoying_."

"Yeah, but you have to entertain me, even if I am being annoying!"

"I hope you're kidding, Malfoy." She rubbed her eyes and put her stuff in her room to regain her sanity for a moment before coming back out, sighing inwardly but otherwise looking quite composed. "If you want to talk so badly, then talk. I'm here."

"I didn't necessarily want to talk to you, I just needed you to entertain me," he said lazily, leaning backward in an armchair.

"Do I look like a circus dog to you?" she demanded.

His eyes lit up with interest. "What's a circus?"

"It's a Muggle thing. So you wouldn't care."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "So you do know a bit about me. Very good, Granger." He turned to look at the merrily crackling fireplace. She noticed that he had his right sleeve pulled up, but his left sleeve remained stiffly down, no doubt on purpose. Narrowing her eyes, she made an educated guess, and pursed her lips.

"You're a Death Eater, aren't you?" she said abruptly, a hard edge entering her tone to obscure her fear. It was a little frightening to her that she was sharing a dormitory with a Death Eater who hated every single molecule of her.

Draco looked at her with his eyebrows raised. "What makes you think I'd tell you if I was?"

She gestured at his sleeves. "You don't have to tell me. It's pretty obvious. I already know."

He pulled his right sleeve down to match his left. "There. Happy now?"

"No, I'm not." Hermione looked right into his eyes. "Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you become a Death Eater?"

He broke their gaze and did not reply until she prompted him again. "It's a long story."

"And we have the rest of the night to hear it. So spill the beans."

He lifted his wand, no doubt to conjure a can of beans to spill. Hermione sighed in exasperation. "Not literally," she grumbled. Was it that hard to get him to reveal any information?

"I did so because Father wanted me to." He crossed his arms and turned to look away. A wistful tone entered his voice, though it was imperceptible to Hermione. "I thought it was what I wanted. I ... don't know anymore."

"Are you your father's puppet, Malfoy?"

He did not look back at her. "No."

"I thought you'd stand up to him. Since you're so good at terrorizing younger kids, I thought you might be able to -"

"Can we talk about something else?" he interrupted angrily, clearly unwilling to talk about his father or being a Death Eater anymore.

She shrugged. "Fine. What's your favourite colour?" she asked, off the top of her head. It had helped her make friends when she was at daycare when she was four. She smiled as she remembered the carefree days where nothing more than scraped elbows could go wrong.

"Green. You?"

"Gold, I think. What's your lucky number?" Hermione ran a hand through her frizzy hair and sighed when they reached a tangle.

"Um, twenty-nine. How about you?"

"Eighty-three." Hermione smiled.

"Why?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I don't know, it just is. Um... oh I know - what's your favourite subject?"

"Potions, of course." He settled back comfortably. He had thought she already knew.

"Oh, really? Mine is Arithmancy."

"Only because you get top marks in that class."

"Actually, I get top marks in every class," Hermione smiled in a superior way.

He scowled. "I know." Sighing, he moved in his seat again. "Why aren't you in Ravenclaw?"

She bit her lip. "Actually, the Sorting Hat considered putting me in all the houses but Slytherin, since I'm not a pureblood," she admitted. "I've got Hufflepuff's hardworking qualities-"

"Yeah, you proved that with your five foot long essay.

She grinned. "But sometimes I will want to give up. Rarely, of course. At the end, the hat was trying to decide between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. It saw my loyalty _and_ my wits. It probably was a difficult decision. I think I chose Gryffindor inside my head, and it read my thoughts, so I was put in Gryffindor instead of Ravenclaw."

"Smart of him."

"He's a smart hat," she said nonchalantly, looking up from examining her fingernails. Hermione's smile was quite wide, and he was compelled to smile back, so he did. It was probably the first time Hermione had ever seen him smile.

"Well, it's midnight now. I'm going to go sleep," Hermione told him, standing up, breaking the spell.

"Me too." Hastily he stood up and they headed toward the door together.

"Do you want to talk again tomorrow?" she asked, a little embarrassed, as they neared their respective doors.

"Sure."

They were silent for a second, each drowning in the other's gaze, before Draco broke the silence. "You know, you're not that bad. Good night."

"I know." She smiled again. "Good night, Draco." It was, oddly, kind of nice to say good night to Draco Malfoy, the arrogant, pureblooded, spoiled rich brat - no, Draco Malfoy, the blonde Slytherin who likes the colour green, whose favourite number is twenty-nine, whose favourite class is Potions...

oOoOo

Hermione went to the Great Hall for breakfast, scribbling in the diary.

_Good morning, Draco! _she wrote.

After she shoved down a few mouthfuls of porridge, she wrote to him for a few minutes before Ron came and sat down.

"Hey Hermione," he greeted her.

She smiled at him. "Hey."

"I was wondering, which page is there information on fluxweed in our Potions book? I haven't finished my essay yet, without you to help me out," he laughed easily.

"Page 46. There's everything you need for the essay in there." She spooned down a bit more porridge and took a blueberry muffin.

"All right, thanks."

"No problem." She started to nibble at her muffin, looking down at the diary and continuing the conversation with Draco. There was an awkward silence in which Ron didn't know what to say or do.

Ron decided to ask her what she was doing. She looked up, surprised he had noticed.

"Oh, it's just a diary. Nothing out of the ordinary," she said lightly, not wanting him to be suspicious. She definitely did not want him to find out she had been corresponding with Draco Malfoy.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Is it a special diary?" he asked. "Did I tell you about the time my sist-"

Hermione gave him a look that silenced him. "Sorry, Ron," she apologized. "I don't really want to talk about Ginny. The way she's been acting to me is kind of bothering me."

Dropping the subject of the diary, Ron leaned forward. "What's wrong with you and her?"

"I don't know. She just seems more popular and busy. I guess she just doesn't want to hang out with me because I'm always in the library studying." She shrugged, attempting to smile brightly as if she did not care, but ended up grimacing.

"Sorry about her. She's always been a procrastinator ... guess it runs in the family," Ron joked.

"Oh. That's fine, then. It runs in the family, with Percy as an exception." Slightly cheered up by the understanding, she took a big bite out of her muffin and sipped some orange juice.

Harry joined them soon enough and engaged Ron in a conversation about the upcoming Quidditch match against Ravenclaw. She smiled and bid them a wonderful day before heading early to Charms, where she bumped into Blaise.

"Oh, hey! Sorry about that," she muttered.

Blaise smiled. "It's fine, don't worry about it."

They stood in silence outside the classroom, clutching their heavy bags. Hermione soon got bored and started to write in the diary again. She was restless when she was not talking to Draco. When Blaise tried to read over her shoulder, she snapped the book shut.

"What was that?" Blaise asked, a curious glint in his eyes.

"Oh, nothing," she lied. He gave her an appraising look but did not press on.

"Say," his tone brightening, "have you checked Draco's top drawer yet?"

Hermione looked around before leaning forward and answering quietly. "Yeah, I have. Thanks for that, Zabini."

"No problem. I won't read over your shoulder, you can keep writing in that journal of yours."

She opened it again and started to write, mumbling another quick thank you to Blaise.

Blaise watched Hermione's intensity and many expressions as she wrote and received replies. He smirked to himself. This was going even better than he expected.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey everybody! I just wanted to thank my 11 reviewers! You're all so wonderful and your reviews made me smile :) . Lots of love!

Please keep reading and reviewing:) :)


	6. Chapter 6: Displeased

**Disclaimer: **J.K. Rowling created this wonderful magical world for us to play in. Thanks, J!

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Chapter 6 - Displeased

Flashback - October 3:

"Excuse me, Lavender, but could you enlighten me about why you are snogging my boyfriend?" interrupted Hermione angrily, marching up to Lavender and Ron, who were kissing fiercely in a corridor. Ron pried Lavender away, Lavender pouting.

Ron opened his mouth to explain, his ears reddening furiously. "Hermione, I know what you think this is, but ... it's not what you think."

"Yeah? Well, what exactly am I supposed to think if you two are snogging in the middle of a hallway? You're _kissing_ another girl, Ron, and you seemed quite happy to be doing so!" she yelled angrily.

"We'll kiss somewhere else if you want, Hermione," Lavender suggested innocently. "We can do it in an empty classroom like last time, Ron."

As he noticed Hermione's furious expression, he glanced at Lavender. "I need to talk with Hermione privately, okay?"

"Fine. See you in the common room." Lavender shot a glare at Hermione and stalked away mutinously.

"Hermione -" Ron began in a soft voice. But Hermione would not let him continue.

"Don't you Hermione me, Ronald Weasley," she said quietly, her voice menacing. Her tears were rapidly rising. "I know what I saw. You're cheating on me. Wasn't I enough for you?"

"Yes, you were! You're very smart, and you're excellent if I need help on homework -"

"Oh, so you're saying we're together so I can help you on homework? Is that right? You need another girl to please you, but you're with me just so I can help you on homework? That's ridiculous, Ron," she snarled, offended.

"I didn't mean it that way, you didn't let me finish!" he told her, exasperation showing in his eyes.

Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm down. "I'll listen now. But you'd better tell me the truth, whatever it is."

"All right. As you know, Lavender has a crush on me. And she didn't know that you and I were together. Not many people know, actually, because I never really talked about it unless people asked. I mean, why would I talk about it out of the blue-"

"Get to the point."

"Sorry. Lavender took me out here telling me she had a surprise for me. Then she kissed me." He shoved his hands into his pockets, nervously trying to read her expression.

Hermione raised her eyebrows. "So why did you let her?"

"I didn't. She ... told me it was a surprise."

Hermione gave him a disbelieving look. "You've always been a bad liar, Ron," she said slowly. "Also, she mentioned that you kissed before this too. This was not your first time."

Ron kicked at the ground, unable to meet her gaze. "You've kissed Krum before -"

"Not when I was in a relationship with you! And that was _ages_ ago, Ron!"

With no other way to defend himself, Ron fell silent and started to pace in front of her. She watched him patiently until she decided she'd had enough.

"Talk to me!" she hissed. "Explain your behaviour and give me a good reason why there was nothing wrong with it, or we're _over_!"

He looked up at her, surprised. "Okay, I'll explain," he sighed uncomfortably. "You're a really great girl, Hermione. But the thing is, I don't see you as much as before, and it's just...different. You're in your own dormitory with Malfoy, I'm in mine with Lavender." He paused, searching for words.

"Why did you kiss her?" she rolled her eyes, starting to lose her temper again.

"I didn't mean to." He glanced around, obviously trying to think of a few words that would sum it all up. He was never too good with descriptive words, so he came up with a desperate, "I think you're going a little too far being protective of us. I don't get to be with you as much as I used to since you became Head Girl. We don't really do much to show each other affection. And to be honest," he scuffled his feet. "I don't think our relationship is really going anywhere."

"You're saying that just because I don't see you every minute of our lives, just because we're not in the same common room, just because I don't _kiss_ you as often as Lavender does, that you don't think I'm good enough?"

His eyes widened and he began to protest. "No, I didn't mean -"

"I think you did," Hermione whispered, quivering. "I think that's _exactly_ what you meant." Without letting him reply, she turned and walked back to her dormitory, her tears falling now that she was out of Ron's sight.

She loved him, she really did. It wasn't her fault she was Head Girl and he wasn't Head Boy. It wasn't her fault she spent time in her own dormitory rather than the Gryffindor one. She was angry at Lavender for not realizing what she and Ron were.

Her crying kept augmenting until she started to cry full force when she entered the common room. Draco looked up from the table, alarmed that his new friend was sad. A month had passed with the two of them having a good time together, and Draco had grown to care about her.

"Hermione?" he called as she dropped down onto a couch, still sobbing.

He made his way across the room and stood beside the couch. When she still made no reply, he sat down next to her. He didn't know what to do for a crying girl. Awkwardly, he patted her hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked when she finally calmed down. It had taken her a few good minutes.

"I just broke up with Ron."

Frowning, he leaned forward. "Why?"

"He's cheating on me. He was kissing Lavender." Her voice was hoarse but there was a sharp edge to it. Without warning, she burst into tears again.

Patting her hand didn't seem to do any good, so this time he put his arm around her shoulders comfortingly. She cried until she couldn't cry anymore and started to sniffle.

"You're too good for Weasley anyway," he told her firmly, handing her a tissue. "Why he would cheat on you, I don't know. But you deserve better."

Hermione looked up at him with her watery brown eyes. "You really think so?" she asked softly, not believing that Draco Malfoy, of all people, would tell her such a thing.

He smiled down at her. "Yes, I do."

Closing her eyes, she moved closer to him for warmth. She felt a bit happier and thankful that she had made a friend, at least, with the Head Boy. Ironic how it used to be her greatest enemy at Hogwarts, though.

Slowly she nodded off in his arms. He watched her sleep. When it was midnight, he gently put her down so she was comfortable on the couch, and covered her with a big cloak so she would not be cold. Quietly he went into his room. "Good night, Hermione," he whispered, smiling slightly to himself.

oOoOo

_Are you still friends with Weasley?_ Draco asked.

_Yeah, I think so. Our friendship has been a bit fragile since ... you know. But we're still friends, I guess._ Hermione answered. _I've seen you two talking - or maybe you were bickering, I don't know for sure - so are you two ... not enemies anymore?_

_He's a blood traitor. So, no, not really. We still are and I don't want to change that. My dad really cares about blood._

_Yeah, I can tell. It's rubbed off on you._ Hermione smirked, shaking her head.

He replied fast. _It's not exactly my fault. He had his special way of teaching me._

_Really? How? _Hermione was curious about how Draco was brought up before Hogwarts.

_I'll show you if you want to see._

Hesitating, Hermione debated in her head whether this was a good idea or not. She was probably only going to be shown a memory, so she concluded that it would be safe. Her quill paused on the page. _Okay._

The pages flipped very fast before the diary finally fell still in her hands. There was a little screen that appeared on one of the pages. She leaned forward, squinting to see it better, and fell through the screen with a surprised yelp, landing inside the memory. The world spun until she finally was standing on solid ground.

She looked around. She was in a beautiful house. The furniture was clearly very expensive and many items bore a crest with an M in the middle.

The Malfoy crest, she suddenly realized. She was in Malfoy Manor.

Hearing voices in a room to the left of her, she followed the noise and ended up in a room where she found Lucius, Draco, and Narcissa Malfoy talking.

"Yesterday I caught you chatting with a Mudblood child at that shop! Do you not know how bad that is?" Lucius scolded Draco.

In this scene, Draco was still a little boy. He seemed to be barely five and his eyes still held wisps of innocence in their gray depths. "Not really," he said quietly.

"We're purebloods!" Lucius banged his fists on the table. "We have pure wizarding blood in our veins! They don't deserve to be taught magic; they have Muggles in their family!"

Draco blinked at him, not knowing how to respond. How would blood affect your magical power? That Muggleborn girl Lucius was talking about knew quite a bit about magic and seemed very smart.

"You have to shun them, Draco! Plot to hurt them, do something! They're not good enough!" Lucius' eyes were filled with an insane kind of light. Draco was a little bit frightened, but he wouldn't dare show it in front of his father. In truth, he kind of liked the Muggleborn girl. He envied her parents, who didn't seem to care whether she was perfect - they didn't even seem to care about fixing her frizzy brown hair.

Narcissa stood up and Hermione saw her face for the first time. She realized where Draco got his good looks from. "Lucius," she protested. "Muggleborns and halfbloods both have wizarding blood in them. Purebloods are special, I guess you could say, but anybody else deserves respect too." Narcissa had a best friend who was a Muggleborn when she was in school, and the girl was always kind and sympathetic to her. Narcissa didn't feel the antagonism Lucius had towards Muggleborns and halfbloods.

Lucius glowered at her. "Pardon?" he asked softly.

"You heard me, Lucius." She was quivering slightly, but glared straight back at him.

"You'd better shut up, because I'm teaching my son a lesson!" he snarled.

"He's my son too! I don't think he should be taught this kind of stuff! He's still young and innocent, why taint his thoughts with prejudice?" Narcissa demanded.

Lucius slapped Narcissa, who yelped in surprise and fell to the ground. He held out his wand and pointed it to her chest. "You will _not_ question how I teach my son. Is that clear?" he said quietly. Narcissa nodded because there was nothing else she could do without getting hurt.

Lucius turned back to Draco to find that he was crying. Hermione was shocked at what Lucius said next:

"Stop crying!" he yelled and shook Draco by the shoulders violently. Draco wiped his eyes and sat still, watching his father. "I never want you to cry _ever_ again, do I make myself clear?"

Draco nodded, sniffling a little.

"Crying makes you weak," Lucius spat. "Emotions make you weak. So if I ever catch you doing something as absurd as _crying_..." He pointed his wand at Draco's face. Draco flinched.

Lucius let out a raucous, cold laugh. "Scared already? I won't curse you today, but next time I catch you..." He smirked, a meaner smirk than Draco could ever manage - and Draco's smirks were mean! - , and exited the room.

Trembling, Draco got up and went to his mother. "Are you okay?" he asked softly, sitting down next to her to hug her.

His mother started to cry, and he patted her head. "I'm sorry Daddy is like that to you," Draco apologized sadly.

She shook her head. "It's not your fault." She hugged her son.

Draco felt a surge of anger towards his father. What gave him the right to abuse his wife? This wasn't the first time he'd hit Narcissa but every time it made Draco angry. Narcissa cried and cried into Draco's shoulder, and he closed his eyes to calm himself down. Slowly, he forced the anger away and instead focused on Narcissa.

"I wish I could help you, Mother," Draco murmured. She stopped crying and calmed down too.

"Thank you, Draco. Now, no matter what your father teaches you ... Don't become a monster. Stay yourself."

He nodded.

"I love you," she told him, smiling through her tears.

Though his face was almost expressionless and a little confused, as if he didn't know what she meant, he replied back with "I love you too."

Hermione felt a tug and soon she was surrounded by whirling colours. Finally, she landed on her bed.

_See what I mean?_ Draco wrote.

She felt terrible for ever judging Draco. It was never his fault for being the way he is. It was his father that scolded him for talking to the Mudblood girl with the frizzy brown hair. It was his father who had changed him from the innocent, caring boy who could experience affectionate emotions, who didn't judge anybody by their blood.

_Yes,_ she wrote. _I'm so sorry._

The injustice in this world was insane, she thought sadly.

* * *

**A/N: **To my reviewers, THANK YOU! :) You are all so wonderful! Thanks for helping me reach my goal and making me smile! To my beta, Vanilla Cookie, THANK YOU! :) You're amazing!

:) Thanks again, everybody! I hope you liked the chapter!


	7. Chapter 7: Childlike Innocence

**Disclaimer: **Do you actually believe I own Harry Potter?

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Chapter 7 - Child-like Innocence

Flashback - November 11:

"Draco?" Hermione asked quietly after picking up her wand from the ground, groping in the dark for his arm.

"I'm here." He held out his wand, muttering _Lumos_. It illuminated his face, and as she hurried towards him, he smiled. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I found my wand," she smiled back. "_Lumos._" Her wandtip started to glow too.

"Let's patrol a little faster, it's too cold to stay for long," he muttered. Gratefully, she agreed, pulling her cloak more tightly around her.

They walked together silently down the seventh floor corridor. The only sound that broke the silence was the occasional hoot of an owl. Hermione was trying her best not to jump at every sudden noise. When they finally finished patrolling and walked downstairs towards their dormitory, she felt thankful for the light that bathed them again. "Thanks for staying with me," Hermione said.

He smiled at her. "No problem. Now, the subject for our debate -"

She looked a little uncomfortable. "Actually, Draco, I kind of wanted to talk to you about something..."

"What is it?"

"Ron."

Draco turned around to look at her. "What do you want to talk about Weasley for?" he asked in a forced neutral tone. She took his arm and led him into the dormitory.

"Ever since I broke up with him ... things haven't been right. We're still friends I think, but it's like we shattered the deeper trust we had before. Harry and him are really close now. Ginny's always doing homework or talking with her new friends." She frowned.

They sat down on the couch. "I'm sure you have more friends than that," he said. He was a little offended because she didn't remember that he was her friend now too... Or maybe he wasn't. He didn't know for sure how she felt about him yet.

"Maybe. I'm on good terms with most of the Gryffindors but it's not the same as being with Harry, Ron and Ginny." Hermione sighed.

He glanced at her. She looked more tired than he felt. He was surprised to see uncertainty in her eyes. He waited for her to speak.

"It's like I have no one else to turn to."

Suddenly, he felt angry. Wasn't _he_ the one she was turning to now? How could she not acknowledge him? It was difficult enough to try to befriend a former enemy; didn't she appreciate his efforts at all? Hadn't she felt the trust growing between the two of them?

"Oh yeah? Maybe you should stop staring after Potter and the Weasleys, and hazard a look at someone who's _right in front of you_," he said, his voice more harsh than he'd intended. Immediately, he felt guilty that he yelled at her, but upset that she hadn't taken any notice of him even then.

She looked up at him. "What? I was just telling the truth ..."

He glowered down at her, then sighed in defeat, his anger vanishing. She gazed into his eyes and saw nothing but deep, gray pools of hurt.

He shook his head. "You're wrong," he told her in a low voice, getting up. He did not meet her gaze as he trudged into his room.

She sat by the fire, frowning to herself. Who else could she trust? Half an hour passed with no names popping into her head. Ginny, Harry, and Ron were all on her Maybe list. Lavender and Parvati were on her Maybe But Probably Not list. Then she looked at where Draco had sat a while ago.

He'd always been there; he changed into something different. She liked this new him. Was it a new person, or was it the real him that he showed to only a few people? He cared about her - or seemed to, anyway. He listened to what she had to say, he made her feel happier, his presence was comforting during their patrols. Even when they have a real argument with actual yelling, the next few days they'd make up and be friends again.

Could he be the one she could turn to?

She went to his door, smiling slightly, and knocked.

oOoOo

Hermione felt awkward when she took out the diary that night. She felt deep sympathy for Draco and his mother. She didn't know what she should say to him right now. Sitting down on her bed, she opened it. She was saved from speaking first-

_We haven't talked for two days. Are you avoiding me, and why? _

Shocked, she gaped at his message. How did he know? He could describe her emotions better than she could. She didn't realize she was trying to avoid talking with him because of the awkwardness she felt.

_I'm sorry I've been avoiding you. It's just that ... after I saw what your life was like, I felt so bad for blaming you for everything you are. It was wrong of me to judge you without knowing what went on in your home. You probably don't want anybody to feel sorry for you, but I'm going to anyway. _She sighed heavily.

_Thank you for saying that._

_Thanks for letting me say that._ She wrote back, smiling a little bit.

_Yeah._

She was unsure how to respond._ Before you left... I kind of wanted to tell you something. _

_Yes?_

_You really did change. I'm sorry I didn't believe you and I'm sorry that I said all those horrible things to you. _As she wrote it to him, the burden on her shoulder lifted, allowing her to breathe more freely than she had before.

_It's okay. Thanks for telling me, Hermione._

_I wanted to take them back but I was just so angry... _She frowned, thinking about what happened that night.

_I know you were angry. It was scary._

She giggled. _Sorry._

_It's fine. Thanks for saying everything you said tonight. It means a lot._

_You're welcome, Draco. _She was confused why he'd say thanks.

_Remember that conversation about Death Eaters we had at the beginning of the year?_ he wrote.

_Yes._ Hermione recalled his anger.

_You deserve to see a little something about that too. If you want to, of course._

_Okay._ She wrote, eager but also slightly wary to see another memory.

The pages flipped like last time, and she fell in again.

Lucius took off his cloak and straightened his robes. "Pinky!" he called imperiously, and a house-elf came to see him.

"Hello, sir!" Pinky squeaked. "It is nice that you is back, sir!"

He rolled his eyes. "There's a bit of loose thread on my left robe sleeve. Cut if off for me."

"Yes sir!" Pinky said and summoned big scissors. Lucius pulled his arm out of the sleeve and huffed impatiently. She chopped with the scissors and cut off his whole left sleeve.

"There you go, sir!" Pinky said happily, giggling and jumping up and down while clapping, clearly very pleased with herself. Lucius stared at his sleeve incredulously before exploding.

"Are you insane?" he roared at his house-elf. "I told you to cut off the thread, not the whole sleeve, you idiot!"

Pinky blinked up at him. "But now that I cut off the sleeve, the thread isn't there either!" she squealed, frightened.

"Shut up! Get out of my sight!" snarled Lucius, and Pinky obeyed obligingly.

Growling under his breath, Lucius marched to his room, on the way passing Draco's room.

"Father!" Draco called out. In this memory, he was six years old. His eyes were a little colder, his expressions were more grim, and his hair was a little longer now too.

Lucius stomped into his room. "What?" he asked.

"Did you get me my - what's wrong with your sleeve?" he frowned.

Crossing his arms, Lucius explained. "Pinky cut it off," he grumbled. "That stupid house-elf."

"What's that on your arm?" he pointed and walked towards Lucius. "Is that a tattoo? I've been asking and asking if I could get a tattoo and you said that no one in their right mind would want to get a tattoo!" he pouted.

"It's not a tattoo, it's the Dark Mark," Lucius said irritably.

"What's that?"

"The sign of the Dark Lord."

Draco fell silent, looking at him in wonder. "Why do you have it?"

"He's my master."

"Is he a nice guy?" Draco asked, his eyes lighting up. He obviously wanted to meet him.

Lucius winced. "He can be when he wants to. I'm a Death Eater. I'm one of his most faithful servants." As he spoke, he puffed out his chest impressively.

Draco frowned again. "Why would you want to be a servant?"

"The Dark Lord is the most powerful wizard in the history of magic. I believe that one day he'll take over the world. Being his servant is a great honour, and when you are older, I want you to be his servant too." Lucius gave him a swift calculating look, which made Draco shift a little bit.

"Oh... okay. I hope he's nice!" Draco smiled slightly and went back to his desk, to complete his drawing of broomsticks and dragons.

Lucius frowned. His son seemed a little too young to know anything about the Dark Lord yet - but he _had_ to know... "Draco?" his father called him.

He didn't turn around. "Yeah?"

"We will talk again about the Dark Lord when you are older."

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**A/N: **Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter :)  
A big thank you to everybody who reviewed! It always makes me smile :)  
And THANK YOU to my beta, Vanilla Cookie.. as always!  
What did you think of the chapter? As you can see... Hermione's starting to trust the diary. Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Hmm.  
Also, I'm planning on handing this story in to my teacher as a project. Do you think it's good enough? :/  
Please let me know what you think in a review! Thanks!


	8. Chapter 8: Passing Through

**Disclaimer:** I will not admit to owning Harry Potter, even if the time comes when pigs grow beautiful wings and start flying.

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Chapter 8 - Passing Through

Flashback - November 26:

A slam of the door alerted Hermione of Draco's presence. Looking up from her work, she was greeted by a scowl. "Hey, Draco. What's up?"

Draco growled a greeting, starting to pace around the room angrily, muttering to himself, his gray eyes flashing.

Sighing, Hermione stood up, stopped him, and led him over to the couch. It had become a place of comfort, a place to talk through difficult things in their lives. "What's the matter?" she asked gently once he'd calmed down.

He frowned, refusing to look into her eyes. "Potter," he spat.

"What about Harry?" she inquired cautiously.

"He used the trip jinx on me and I tripped, of course. And now my robes are torn." Draco held up his right sleeve, where there was a ragged hole near the elbow. "My robes were expensive."

Raising her eyebrows, she looked down at the hole. "I thought you could afford anything," she commented. "You could easily buy another. Or use magic to fix it?"

"Yes, I _could_ do both of those. I'm no good with charms for clothes, so that's a no. And I could buy another set but these robes are _special_."

She frowned. "How?"

"Can't tell you exactly, I don't know how to explain it. But they're really special to me..."

"I'll fix it right now. You can do your homework while you wait." Hermione flicked her wand and her books on the table flew into her bag.

After he went into his room to change into a different set of robes, he handed his torn ones to Hermione and she took out her Muggle sewing kit. Draco went over to the table, waved his wand, and his bag soared over to him. He opened a few books on his lap, unraveled a piece of parchment on the table, and began to write.

"He'll hate this," grinned Hermione to herself as she started to sew a quilt patch on the hole. The patch was lucid green with mauve polka-dots, and it looked quite ridiculous on a completely black robe. Stitch by stitch, she worked her way through and it was finally done in half an hour. After surveying her masterpiece, she broke into a wide smile and chuckled at what he would probably say.

"Draco," she sang. "It's finished."

He scribbled his conclusion for his paragraph and stood up, rubbing his forehead. "I've finished my homework too," he said wearily, walking over to her.

She held the sleeve up for him to inspect, giving him an innocent look. "I hope you like it," she said sweetly.

Draco's eyes widened with shock. "What did you ... fix ... it with?" he asked slowly, brow furrowing.

"I did it Muggle-style! I stitched it and used my quilt fabric!" she said happily as he surveyed the green and mauve with an unreadable expression in his eyes. "Do you like it?" she asked him softly, a little worried he might explode and get mad.

He looked a bit disapproving, but said, "It's brilliant. Thank you, Hermione." He took the robe, packed up, and put his things back in his room.

An owl tapped on the window impatiently as soon as he stepped back into the common room. He hurried over to let it in - it was a majestic gray owl with piercing amber eyes. "Hello," he said uncertainly. The owl held out its leg, to which an official-looking letter was tied.

"Thanks," he muttered, and the owl flew off. He looked at the scroll of parchment, turning it around in his hands till he found the seal.

"Draco, mind closing the window? It's cold!" Hermione requested, shivering.

Draco looked up, a little surprised. "Oh, right." He closed the window and walked to the table, opening the letter.

His eyes grew wide.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy, _

_Your trial will be held on December 10 at 9 A.M. Please arrive promptly and be prepared for a wand check at the front desk._

Standing up abruptly, not reading the signature or the valediction, he crossed the room and sat in a seat near the fire. His lips were tight and he was tense, though he couldn't tell if it was because of rage or fear. He'd killed someone that summer as his first Death Eater task, and it resulted in this whole mess.

His task went well, although he felt sick when he had to kill the person. It was terrifying and he wasn't willing to, but Voldemort had threatened to kill his family. He was worried for his mother's safety. So he did it.

With a burst of his old fire, he had a mad idea - he'd kill whoever would sentence him to Azkaban!

His mind spun as he remembered the scream of his victim, and he shuddered. No, killing was not an option. He would never murder again.

Running a quick hand through his hair, he groaned inwardly. What else could he do to avoid going to the wizard prison? He didn't even have his N.E. yet!

Hermione glanced at him. "What's wrong?" She could tell by the troubled look on his face that he was distressed. "What does that say?" she asked, pointing at the letter he'd left on the table.

"Nothing's wrong," he told her. "And the letter doesn't say anything important. Now I'm going to bed, good night."

She stood up, her eyes glinting. "I'm not stupid. I could tell something was up by your expressions. So tell me, or I'll keep bugging you till you do."

He sighed impatiently. "Really, it's nothing! Just let it go, it doesn't matter and it has nothing to do with you." He snatched the letter up and tucked it into his robes.

"Okay," Hermione accepted, but it was clear from the tone of her voice and the hard look in her eyes that it was not okay. Giving her a nod, Draco went to bed. Frankly, he had bigger problems than her resentment.

oOoOo

_I have so much homework from Charms_, Hermione wrote to Draco, grimacing.

_Poor you. Have fun finishing it._

She shook her head. _I'll try._

_Get to work, we can talk after you're done._

Hermione sighed, taking out her books, and started to write an essay about the bubble-head charm. Her mind kept wandering off into a little world of its own, and she was frustrated with herself for being unable to concentrate. It was so unlike her normal self. She stabbed the quill onto the parchment as she dotted an i and accidentally tore a hole in the parchment. "Oh, this is hopeless," she sighed after she misspelt a few words. Opening the diary, she wrote to Draco again.

_I can't concentrate; I'm so tired from all the work._ she complained.

_You need a break. Relax, get out of it, do something different._

_Like what? _she asked.

_ Wanna see another memory?_

Hermione shrugged. _Sure._

oOoOo

There was a very peculiar sound - it sounded like a mix between a door opening loudly and a man roaring. When Hermione peered closer, it turns out it was both.

Lucius Malfoy slammed Draco's bedroom door open, yelling at the top of his lungs, shoving him in. A terrified six-year-old Draco hurried into the room, clutching his right arm.

"You idiot!" Lucius bellowed, making Draco jump. "Your broken arm is your own fault for falling off your broom! No son of mine makes embarrassing mistakes like that!"

Draco looked at his father, his eyes portraying just how frightened he was. Lucius' eyes had a mad glint to them and his face was flushing. Was he insane? Hermione couldn't help wondering. She could see that Draco was attempting to hide his fear from his father, but he was failing miserably.

"Narcissa!" Lucius howled. "Where are you?"

Narcissa, a beautiful, pale woman with long golden locks of hair, hurried into the room. "What's the matter, Lucius?" she asked gently, stroking his arm to calm him.

Lucius didn't turn to look at her; his glare stayed focused on Draco. "Your idiot of a son fell off his broom and broke his arm!"

A flash of uncertainty passed through Narcissa's eyes but disappeared so fast Hermione wondered if she only imagined it. There was a steely look in Narcissa's pale blue eyes that replaced her worried expression a moment ago. "You stupid boy! How could you do something like that?"

Hermione felt anger course through her veins. It wasn't his fault - accidents happen, people fall off their brooms all the time! Even Harry, who was a very good flier, fell occasionally too! She watched sadly as Draco's expression became shocked and hurt.

The two parents yelled and yelled at Draco, but he seemed to not hear them. At last, Lucius spat a final insult before storming out of the room, slamming the door back closed. Hermione winced and turned back to watch Narcissa and Draco.

He crawled into his bed and turned around to face the wall, not wanting to see his mother's face. Hermione could practically read what was going through his mind by watching the pained expression on his face. _Nothing had ever hurt more, not even my broken arm._

"Draco..." Narcissa murmured, but Draco didn't reply.

His mother sat at the foot of his bed, stroking his hair lovingly like Hermione had always wanted to. Silence rang, and finally Draco sniffed. Her hand went under his chin and her thumb rubbed his cheek soothingly in circles.

"Why?" Draco managed to croak as he finally turned to face Narcissa, his tears rising.

She remained silent, drawing out her wand and repairing Draco's arm before replying. "You know I didn't mean it, don't you?" she whispered.

"No."

Narcissa sat Draco in her lap gently, hugging him like she always did when Lucius wasn't around. "Please remember that I don't mean anything hurtful I say to you, dear."

"Why did you say those things?" Draco asked, his voice a little higher. Hermione admired his valiant efforts to fight his tears. He was already so brave, and he was still so young.

"Your father hits me, you know that. I can't argue with your daddy, or I will get hurt. I'm so sorry, Draco," she said softly and kissed his forehead. The two of them sat in silence for a while.

"Mother?" Draco asked after a short while.

"Yes?"

"D-do... I mean... You still love me, don't you?"

Smiling down at Draco, Narcissa replied, "Of course I do. Why would you ever doubt that?"

"I just wasn't sure anymore."

She hugged him tighter and snuggled him up against her. "Oh baby, I'll always love you." Her eyes were a little bit wet.

A few more minutes of silence passed again before he yawned. Narcissa tucked him gently back under his covers. "Good night, dearest."

"Good night, Mother."

She sat against the wall, watching him. Under her soft gaze, Draco kept squirming, obviously too self-conscious to drift off into dreams. Hermione's thoughts were confirmed as she heard him say, "I can't sleep."

"Would you like me to sing to you?" she inquired softly, smiling and standing up.

"Sure." Draco closed his eyes as Narcissa cleared her throat before beginning.

"Little boy, six years old...  
A little too used to being alone.  
Another new mom and dad, another school,  
Another house that'll never be home.  
When people ask him how he likes this place ...  
He looks up and says, with a smile upon his face -"

But he never got to find out what the little six-year-old boy says, because right at that moment, his father burst into the room, and dragged his mother out. Narcissa screamed, and it terrified Hermione because it was so different from her melodious voice before.

Hermione and Draco both heard his father roaring ruthlessly, and they stiffened at the same time. Narcissa's pained yells pierced the still night air. Hermione felt strong compassion toward the Malfoys, and even stronger disdain for Lucius. Poor Draco and Mrs Malfoy; how could they stand living with that monster?

Draco clutched his pillow, his breathing shallow and ragged, before he shut his eyes as tight as he could. Silent tears started to stream down Hermione's face as she realized he was crying himself to sleep.

oOoOo

_Draco..._ Hermione wrote as she came out of the memory, still crying. Her hand shook so violently that she could not keep writing.

_It's okay. Go to sleep. Good night, Hermione._

_I don't know what to say to you..._

_That's fine. It's late, and you're tired. Go to sleep._

_

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_

**A/N: **I ended up posting a day earlier than I thought I would. Oops!

Thank you to everybody for the wonderful reviews! Have I ever mentioned that you guys are all awesome? If I haven't.. YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME. :)

The lyrics in this chapter are from Temporary Home - Carrie Underwood. I thought it fit in with that part. What do you think? (:

Please review! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Keep reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9: Ignorance

**Disclaimer: **Me owning Harry Potter is about as believable as elephants changing colours at their own will.

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Chapter 9 - Ignorance

Flashback - December 3:

"I miss Ron." Hermione said with a sigh.

Draco raised an eyebrow derisively. "Why would you miss Weasley?"

"He was my boyfriend."

"Remember, he _was._"

"Yes, but I still miss him. We're still friends, but we're not as close anymore."

"Is that bad?"

"What do you _think_, Draco?"

"Not really."

"And why is that?"

"You deserve better."

Sighing, Hermione crossed her legs. After a moment's pause, she remembered something. "Hey, there's a Hogsmeade trip soon ... on the 10th, I think."

Draco's eyes darkened momentarily. "That's ... great."

"You don't seem too excited..."

Shrugging, Draco turned away. "I guess I'm not."

"And I'm guessing you wouldn't tell me why you're not excited for it, even if I asked you why?"

A calculating look flashed her way. "You just did, indirectly."

"No, I didn't." Hermione crossed her arms.

"Yes, you did."

"Hey, zip it."

Draco was silent again.

"I didn't mean it..." Hermione protested, edging closer and smiling playfully. She wondered why Draco hadn't fought back. If she had told him to zip it a few days ago, he probably would have murdered her with a spoon.

Draco rolled his eyes but grinned too. "Sounded like it."

She punched him lightly on the arm. "So... why aren't you excited for Hogsmeade?"

"I ... I don't want to tell you."

"Fine."

"Mm."

There was another moment of silence. Draco shot a glance at her, wondering why she was being so awkward. She had a guilty but excited look on her face, and her eyes were alight with something he couldn't read. Exhilaration? Fear? Anxiety?

"Are you ... going to Hogsmeade with anyone?" Hermione tried. She was trying to sound nonchalant, but her eyes gave it away.

He groaned, misunderstanding. "You're going to pry in my personal life too now?"

Her cheeks flushed. "No, I was just wondering if ..." she trailed off, biting her lip, clearly wondering if she wanted to carry on with the offer.

Too late, he thought. If she was going to bring it up, Draco Malfoy sure wasn't going to let her back out. Leaning toward her, he smirked. "What were you wondering, Hermione?"

She closed her eyes.

"Hey, I'm still here, you know," he said, irritated, when a few seconds passed without her saying a word. "And I'm not going to take a 'never mind' for an answer. Just tell me."

"But you'll laugh!"

"I won't."

"Promise?"

"Yes. Blimey, Granger, is it _that_ embarr -"

Her eyes opened and her cheeks were red. "I was just wondering if you would like to go to Hogsmeade with me, that's all," she blurted and looked down in embarrassment as he stared at her in shock. He was tempted to say yes, but he knew he couldn't.

"I - I can't." Draco's eyes darkened again as he remembered that the trial was on that day.

"Why? Are you going with another girl?" she asked quietly.

Draco shook his head. "Of course not! I just ... I told you that you deserved better, remember?"

"Yeah! You're better than Ron!" Inwardly she slapped herself for saying such a thing; now he'd probably think she fancied him... But she did, didn't she?

"Uh ... no, I'm not." It was hard to admit to himself, but he knew that he wasn't. "I'm a Malfoy, Hermione. I'm not ... good enough for you."

"You mean, I'm not good enough for _you_," Hermione corrected him, rolling her eyes.

He shook his head. "That's not what I -"

"This is because I'm a - a Mudblood, isn't it?" When he stared at her in silence, wondering why she would think such a thing, she misunderstood. "Yeah, thought so. Don't know why I bothered asking in the first place." She stood up abruptly and started to go to her room.

Draco stood up quickly. "No, wait." He ran his hand through his hair, wildly thinking of words to describe it without telling her that he was leaving that day.

Hermione summoned all her self-control and turned around to face him. It looked like it was hard to do. "What?"

"The only reason I can't go is that I don't want to hurt you, Hermione. Don't you know that by now?"

"But you're hurting me now!"

"Look, Hermione, I'm busy that day! It's not that I don't like you, it's just ... Urgh! I don't know how to explain it!" he tugged on his hair, frustrated.

"Obviously you don't like me enough."

Draco tugged just a little harder, enough to hurt. "It's really hard to explain, but I promise it's not that. You'll ... find out soon, though."

She growled. "When is soon?"

Suddenly, he snapped. "Stop trying to make this hard for me!" he yelled. "It's for your own good!"

"How is upsetting me for my own good, huh, Malfoy?" she shouted back. His mind registered that she was back to last names with him.

"It's not that! I told you, I'm not good enough! You don't know what I'm like at all!"

"Yeah, I do! You told me you've changed and for the past few months you've been different from before! But now, you're back to your old self - selfish, and emotionless, and -"

Surprised, his voice grew softer. "But I _did_ change."

"You did, but you changed back, and I don't know why."

"I did not change back!" Another flash of anger.

"Yes, you did!" she yelled. "It's either that, or you've never changed at all! You're still the same immature spoiled brat!"

He thought he would explode with frustration. "No!"

Her eyes were chips of ice. "I began to believe you changed, Malfoy," she whispered. "But I was wrong."

"No, you were right. I _did_ change, Granger."

"Strange, I don't see the difference anymore. You're still the ferret boy I thought of as an enemy." Her toes curled up in her shoes and she nearly winced at her mean words, but didn't want to show any sign of weakness ... not to the boy who rejected her.

He was hurt. It was like the time his mother had said harsh things to him... The difference was that his mother didn't mean the insults, but he wasn't sure if Granger did or not.

"Hermione..." Sighing, he walked forward until he was a step or two away from her. Draco looked straight into her eyes, noticing that she flinched and looked away. "I really want to go to Hogsmeade with you..."

"Then why won't you?"

"Because I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"I don't want to hurt you."

"Why would you hurt me?"

"Because I'm going to be away for some time..."

"Why? And where are you going?"

"I can't tell you why. Nor can I tell you where."

She stomped her foot. "We're going around in circles, Draco! Why can't you tell me?"

"It's private, okay?" Draco didn't want to destroy Hermione's innocence by telling her what he did over the summer. "To sum it all up since you don't seem to get the point of this whole discussion, I don't want to hurt you because I have to go soon."

"Go where?"

"That I can't say. I told you enough." He willed her to understand.

Unfortunately, she didn't. "So why did you tell me if you can't tell me the whole truth?"

"Because I care."

Her lips curled up in a tight smile, and her eyes glittered icily. "Maybe you care. But you don't care enough."

Marching over to her door, she opened it and whipped around again. "This discussion is _over._"

"Wait -" he started, but she slammed the door in his face.

oOoOo

"No public displays of affection, if that's okay with you two lovebirds," Hermione spat as she passed Ron and Lavender kissing in the corridors again. With her bag hitched up high on her shoulder, she looked intimidating.

Ron broke away and glared at Hermione. "What's it to you?" he said roughly as Lavender giggled.

"Nothing, just the fact that I ate dinner only a few moments ago, Ron." She gave a dry little cough, satisfied that she hinted enough. When Ron gave her a shocked look, she almost smirked. Almost.

Lavender gave her a smug smile. "Why does it matter that my Won-Won is kissing me, Hermione?" she simpered, batting her eyelashes at Ron.

Ron looked revolted but otherwise said nothing.

Crossing her arms, she sighed angrily. "Can we talk alone? Without your ... girlfriend ... around?"

Lavender huffed. "Again?" she scowled and flounced away.

Ron called a thanks after her, and followed Hermione into an empty classroom. "What?"

"Why are you kissing Lavender?" she hissed, plunging her hand in her bag to touch the diary for confidence.

"Why can't I? She's my girlfriend!"

Hermione let out a low growl, but stopped and widened her eyes. Suddenly, her vision swam, and it wasn't with tears. Her mind was lost in bliss, and she was dancing barefoot in a beautifully green meadow. _Say, "Huh. Nothing else I would expect from a filthy blood traitor like you," someone whispered softly in her ear. _The words slipped out of her mouth without her even realizing it - she was picking flowers in her meadow now. "Huh. Nothing else I would expect from a filthy blood traitor like you."

Ron gave her a funny look and muttered something she didn't catch. She was putting the flowers in her hair.

_Say, "What was that, Weasel?"_

"What was that, Weasel?" she sneered. Ron was shocked.

He couldn't exactly place a finger on what was tugging at the corners of his mind. He knew he heard those words somewhere - a long time ago, no doubt - but who had said these words? Certainly not Hermione. He frowned, trying to remember.

"Hermione," he protested. "What's the matter?"

Her mind came out of the meadow reluctantly, and she realized she was standing in the room with Ron. "What do you mean?" she asked blankly. The last thing she remembered was the meadow. What had she said to make him ask such a thing, she wondered?

He still looked incredulous and didn't bother filling her in on what she said to him - he thought she already knew. "Well ... you're _Muggleborn_..."

Anger swamped her mind quickly. "What, are _you_ going to start calling me a Mudblood too, like Dra - M - Malfoy?"

Widening his eyes, he finally realized why what she said sounded so familiar. "No, Hermione. I'm sorry, okay? Lavender's my girlfriend, so it isn't wrong for me to -"

"It's fine." She cut him off, clutched at her bag with the diary in it, and faked a smile before taking a few steps towards the door; she was back in the meadow, and birds were singing.

"It's not wrong for me -" Ron tried to continue, but Hermione had already flounced out of the room smiling in an insane way that made her look like she was off in her own world, oblivious to all else.

* * *

**A/N: **Possibly my fastest update yet! :)

What do you guys think is happening to Hermione? Tell me your thoughts and guesses in a review, please! :)

A huge thank you to all my reviewers! And also, thanks to my beta, Vanilla Cookie! She's too wonderful for words :) :)

Happy early Valentine's Day, because I probably will not update before and during that day... I will be too busy wallowing in misery, because I'm not spending that day with anybody. To cheer me up, how about a review, hm? (:

THANK YOU FOR READING!


	10. Chapter 10: Waterfall

**Disclaimer: **One way to tell if I am delirious is if you hear me say that I own Harry Potter. :)

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Chapter 10 - Waterfall

Flashback - December 7:

"Herm - Granger, pass the knife."

At the suggestively sadistic words, Hermione looked up. She had recognized his voice, so her eyes blazed with a fire already as she glanced into his eyes before looking down again to cut up her roots.

"Granger. I need the knife." He held out his hand, rolling his eyes. They were assigned to share the table, and each table had one knife, specially designed to cut up the roots they were using for the potion.

Hermione looked at his outstretched hand and gave him a high-five before cutting up her roots again, agonizingly slowly. Draco groaned.

"Seriously," he said impatiently. "Hurry up!"

After a few minutes, she had finished daintily cutting up the last root. He glared at her as she passed the knife without looking at him.

"Finally," he muttered. Hermione smirked to herself.

"Three black beetles," Hermione said under her breath as she scanned the instructions. She got up to get them from the storage cupboard.

"Get me three too!" Draco called, starting to chop his roots. Hermione gave no sign that she had heard him and returned, almost skipping, with three beetles clutched in her hand.

After he looked at her hands expectantly for another three beetles and found none, he leaned closer and glared at her again. "What's the _matter_ with you?" he growled.

She gave him an innocent smile and dropped her beetles inside her cauldron, where they sizzled and dropped to the bottom. Smugly, she turned back and stirred. When the class was over, she hurried to clear up and left without another glance at Draco.

It was difficult to ignore a person who you happen to have many classes with, who you happen to share dormitories with, who you happen to have feelings for. Hermione, with her tenacity, tried her best. It wasn't too hard for her, since she had nothing to say to him anyway. Sometimes she'd feel an urge to go talk to him and see him smile again, but she would push it away, remembering the night they had talked last. Once today, she'd heard Draco muttering anxiously, "Three days... only three more days...!" and she'd rolled her eyes, wondering if he was talking about the Hogsmeade trip.

That night, she waited at the door of their dormitory for Draco, with whom she was supposed to patrol. She tapped her foot in annoyance as ten minutes passed. Either he was in his room sulking, or not in the dormitory at all. Draco Malfoy rarely sulked, so she assumed it was the latter, and started patrolling without him.

She paused by the boys' washroom on the third floor, thinking she heard a noise inside .

After standing by the door for a minute without hearing anything, she carried on walking around aimlessly. When was Draco going to come?, she wondered, then berated herself for thinking about him.

As she turned, she passed by the boys' washroom again and heard more noises. After a short inner debate about whether or not she could go inside, being a girl, curiosity won. She gently pushed the door open without a sound. The door seemed to be able to block some noise, because whoever was in here was certainly making a racket with his sobbing. Why was this boy crying so hard? She fleetingly wondered if it was because she was ignoring Draco - but was this even Draco Malfoy? Did Draco Malfoy ever cry? She pushed the thought away; Malfoy wouldn't cry over something as trivial as her ignoring him, would he? No, she told herself, of course not, that's not Malfoy. Frowning, she looked a little closer. The boy was gripping the edges of the sink, shaking as he cried. Hermione took in his appearance - clean white button-up shirt, green and silver necktie, Head badge ... white blonde hair ...

When she accidentally let out a gasp as she realized who it was, he turned around, trembling, trying to calm down and muffle his sniffles and hiccups. Hermione had already dashed out of the washroom. Unfortunately, she didn't get out quick enough - he caught a glimpse of bushy brown hair.

oOoOo

_I'm so fed up with catching Ron and Lavender kissing in the corridors,_ Hermione scrawled angrily. _It's so annoying._

_What do you do when you catch them?_

_I tell them off. It's pretty disgusting to see them at it in public, you know? _

_Yeah, I know what you mean. Why don't you try taking points?_

_What, for kissing in the hallways? Taking points from my own house, just because they're kissing in the halls? _She raised her eyebrows quizzically.

_If it makes you feel better, go for it._

She smiled. He seemed to care about her. _Yeah, thanks. _She remembered something and decided to ask him for comfort, advice, or anything he could give her. _You know what's weird? Yesterday, I was talking to Ron. In the middle of our conversation, I started to daydream and I didn't even know what he said - I didn't know what I said, either. Isn't that strange?_

_Yeah, that is strange. Maybe... Maybe you studied too much or stayed up too late the night before, and you simply drifted off. _

Thinking back to the book she was reading the night before her conversation with Ron, she understood. _You're right; I was rereading the Standard Book of Spells the night before that row. _

_Are you kidding? I can barely get through that book! _She imagined his disbelieving laughter.

_I did reread it. Fifth time I reread it, mind you... It took my mind off Ron and Lavender, which was good. Ironic how I ran into the two of them that night._

_Ironic, yeah._

Hermione checked her watch. _Time for dinner, wanna come?_

_Sure._

oOoOo

Harry and Ron were already at the Great Hall. Ladling soup in his bowl, Ron started to talk. "I fought with Hermione yesterday."

"Again?" Harry's exasperated tone made Ron grin sheepishly.

"Yeah. She was acting all angry because I was kissing Lavender."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione's your ex-girlfriend, remember? Of course she'd be angry."

Ron huffed. "Are you taking her side or mine?"

"I'll take the side of whoever's right."

Ron ate a bit of roast beef before speaking again. "She's kind of different these days, don't you think?"

"Yeah, she got over the guy she was missing." Harry said before filling his mouth with carrot.

"No, I mean... She's different. She seems distant. Like, during our conversation - in the middle of it, she was grinning crazily even though she was supposed to be mad at me."

"You know our Hermione. Always lost in thought." Harry shrugged.

Ron rolled his eyes. "Yes, but she doesn't _do_ that during a fight."

Shrugging again, Harry gulped down some pumpkin juice. "Guess so. Also, she's often writing in that diary of hers. Have you noticed?"

Frowning, Ron leaned forward, putting his fork down. "Yeah, I have. She's always caught up in it, isn't she?"

"Yep. I've even seen her smiling at it ... and after she writes, she always pauses and reads - and makes a facial expression. What's up with that?" Harry wondered. "She's the one who wrote the stuff, so why would she reread it and -"

"Hello!" Hermione called as she came over and sat down facing them. "I'm starving!" Picking up her quill, she opened her diary and wrote something to Draco again before smiling at her two friends.

Ron gave him a wide-eyed look that plainly said "See?".

Harry looked at the diary. "What's that?"

"A diary, I told you before. My diary." Hermione sounded impatient. "Could you pass the mashed potatoes?"

Harry passed the potatoes as she scribbled back to Draco. Lavender bounced over to where they were sitting, hugged Ron from behind, and ran off with Parvati, giggling all the while. Ron looked at Hermione, checking for reaction, and was ready to apologize. But she hadn't even noticed Lavender - she was still writing, smiling to herself.

"Hermione?" Ron said, deciding to apologize for the night before.

"Hm?"

Prodding a pea with his fork, he said, "I'm sorry about last night."

"Oh, that's fine." Hermione didn't look up from writing. She barely sounded like she was listening to what Ron said. Surprised, Ron leaned back and relaxed. His task was done, the weight on his shoulders lifted, and Hermione hadn't even given him a hard time.

A few minutes passed as the two friends watched Hermione write in the diary. There was a pattern. She wrote. She read. She grimaced, rolled her eyes, sighed, or smiled.

Ron leaned toward Harry. "Is she mad?" he whispered.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "No. Remember our Hermione? She's probably writing something about homework... We still have to do our essays on Silencing Charms, remember that."

Groaning, Ron focused his attention on his food again, while Hermione kept writing fervently, deep in conversation.

The food vanished, and the students were dismissed. Harry was the only one to notice that Hermione had written in her diary all through dinner and hadn't eaten anything more than two bites of mashed potatoes - and she had said she was starving.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry for the late update, everybody! :(

My goodness, this is my first double digit chapter on this site! Ever! Hooray! -cheers and does a happy dance!-

I hope this chapter makes up for it!

THANK YOU TO MY BETA VANILLA COOKIE (:

And thanks to the readers and reviewers because you make me smile :)

So, this chapter... people are getting suspicious. Liked it? Disliked it? Let me know and tell me why in a review, please! (:

(PS: I kinda like writing the disclaimer things :P what do you think of them? lol!)


	11. Chapter 11: Should've Been There

**Disclaimer: **I asked Mister Santa for Harry Potter last Christmas. I guess I've been a bad girl, because I didn't get what I wanted.

* * *

Chapter 11 - Should've Been There

Flashback - December 10:

Hermione woke up, rolling over to glance at the clock. It was 9:30 A.M. "Draco's not up yet," she murmured to herself, knowing that he didn't like getting up early on weekends. Immediately, she remembered that she wasn't even supposed to be thinking about him; as she got out of bed, she pushed Draco out of her mind.

Not talking to him for nearly a week made her restless and worried. Was he hurt? Why was he crying in the bathroom the other day? She didn't want to talk to him because she was still upset; but that didn't mean that she didn't care.

Putting her ear next to his door, she listened for any sounds. Nothing. It was very quiet, like nobody was there. She frowned. Did he go to breakfast early, just to avoid her?

She took her time with her morning necessities. She threw on her robes quickly and walked out of the door, stepping on something on the way. She turned around in surprise, glancing down where her foot had just been. There were roses on the ground right in front of her, which, she hopefully presumed were left by Draco. Smiling, she picked them up. What a nice thing to do; she would never have expected it on a normal Saturday. Her smile faded when she remembered it wasn't just a Saturday - it was a Hogsmeade Saturday, one that she should have spent with Draco.

Turning back into her room, she shoved the flowers in an empty drawer and left.

oOoOo

_It's been so long but I still feel lonely without you._ Hermione sighed, checking her calendar. It was February.

_Why don't you do something that will make you happy? _

_I don't know what will make me happy. Other than you, of course. _She grinned shyly.

_Ahh... touching. Well, is there anything you want to do?_

_I don't know what I want. It feels like I need something but I just don't know what it is. I don't know if that makes any sense._

_It does make sense. But... do you want to find out what you want? _Hermione imagined him smirking and rolled her eyes.

_Yeah. It'd relieve me and I wouldn't be so restless all the time. _She smiled hopefully, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

_Well ... there's a new Mirror of Erised in the Room of Requirement. Just walk past the door three times asking for one of those Mirrors. You'll see what you want or need and you'll feel better. _

She smiled wider. _Thanks._ She bit her lip, wondering if she should go or not. Her gut instinct shrugged, but her mind screamed yes. "Yeah, I think I'll go do that," she murmured and shut the book, tucking it under her robes. A thrill of anticipation jolted through her as she left the room.

A few minutes later, she was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised. Peering into it, she wondered what she would see. At first, she could only see her reflection. But soon, something materialized. As she stared into the mirror, she saw Draco Malfoy putting his arm around her.

It looked so real. She felt her shoulder for his hand, but it wasn't there. Turning to look for him, she realized he was only present in the mirror. Hermione approached the mirror and placed her hand on where he appeared. Instead of feeling his warmth, she felt the glass. She felt like there was a window separating her from him and wanted to scream in frustration.

Pounding the glass was no use. Draco only stood there with her, smiling sadly, his eyes willing her to stop. She started to yell, angrily, desperately; but he still said nothing as he watched her with a serene gray gaze.

"Who are you scolding, Miss Granger?" came a politely interested voice.

Whipping around, she faced Professor Dumbledore. "Professor!" she gasped. "I'm sorry... what are you doing here?" Her face started to flush red as she bit her lip nervously. Hermione fumbled with her bag, hitching it onto her shoulder and sneaking a last glance at Draco in the mirror. She backed away as Dumbledore approached.

Dumbledore walked closer and looked into the mirror. "I came to take this mirror into my own room. It could be a danger to students." He glanced at Hermione, who was looking in the mirror again with a melancholy expression. "What do you see?" he asked.

"I - I ... Can't tell you. Err, good night, Professor." Hermione gave him a nod out of respect and ran away before she could be questioned any further.

oOoOo

_So what did you see? _

She bit her lip. _You._

_You miss me that much?_

_Yeah, I do. I want to see you again._

_I want to see you too. But meanwhile, here's a memory I thought you might want to see. It might help you with missing me, since I'm in it... _Hermione grinned. Of course he'd say such a thing. _But it's a short one._

She replied eagerly. _That's okay. I want to see it._

oOoOo

Draco glanced at his calendar, then at his clock.

It was December 10, 8 A.M.

An hour till the trial, he thought miserably.

He showered quickly, put on his best robes, brushed his hair and made himself look presentable. He knew it was probably the last time he would ever wear expensive clothing.

"Which cloak should I wear?" he wondered as he threw two cloaks on his bed and looked them over. Something impressive would perhaps intimidate the judge. He decided on the pure black one, leaving the green and silver cloak.

Draco looked around the room for the last time, knowing that when he was gone, everything would still be the same. The only thing this room would lack was life. Leaving the school made him realize that he thought of this place as his home. It was more familiar than Malfoy Manor, where it was empty and mysterious. Draco would see neither ever again after he left.

Leaving also made him realize that he did care for things he was leaving behind. He would miss his room, because it was the place he could cool off his anger, or let out his misery, or take down the walls temporarily to just be himself. He would miss the lessons he took, because they served as a good distraction when his mind was buzzing with dark thoughts. He would miss some of the people in his year in Slytherin. But most of all, he realized, he would miss Hermione.

She entered his life unwillingly. He let her enter unwillingly. But somehow, they had bonded of their own will and created a friendship. Was it because they were both so misunderstood that they were similar in a sense? They both lacked affection from their peers. Only a few people realized that they weren't just smart in academics. Almost nobody could break down either of their walls.

Hermione, unwittingly, _had_ put up her own walls. She was lonely and wanted someone to care for her, but had always acted as the motherly figure to her two best friends. She disliked melodrama and too much attention, so kept herself buried in her studies. When Draco walked in, she finally found someone who could match her smarts but also offer her the other things she wanted, without making her feel like she was asking for too much, because Draco would never acknowledge. Draco could see all those things, though her walls were carefully developed and strongly supported by her tenacity.

Draco, wittingly, put up his own walls. He was lonely as well and wanted someone to care for him without having others laugh at him for turning soft. He always had to be the evil character because his family was associated with the Dark Lord. It was infuriating when he realized some people were scared of him and would not accept him. Hermione, however, knew that though he put up an indifferent facade, he did care. She also knew that showing emotion was equivalent to weakness in a Malfoy. Somehow Hermione could see mostly what was behind all the walls, and more importantly - she could _understand._ Nobody had ever understood him before, and it meant a lot to him that his former enemy was willing to try.

Though it had taken a good six years, they had grown to care about each other as friends - or maybe even more. Draco exited his room, wishing he could talk with Hermione at that moment to tell her what she meant to him, but they were still in the middle of a fight. He sighed, hating how difficult it was for him to just _tell_ her why he couldn't go out with her, but she would find it all out in the note he was going to leave. It was a much easier way than telling her face-to-face - he would not be able to see her disgust and renewed loathing, and hurt inside alone.

He pressed his ear against Hermione's door. "Still sleeping," he smiled sadly as he heard her murmur his name in her sleep and pull up her blanket. Draco hoped she'd forgive him even after finding out the truth.

"_Orchideous_," he muttered, and a bouquet of roses sprang into his hands. After writing a short letter - or a long note, depending on the way you could look at it - explaining where he was going and other important matters, he placed the roses in front of her door, where she couldn't miss it.

"Goodbye, Hogwarts," he murmured as he shut his room's door.

Draco ran a hand through his hair, staring at Hermione's closed door and imagining her radiant smile and sparkling eyes. He'd miss it sorely. "Goodbye, Hermione."

And with that, he left.

oOoOo

_Thanks for showing me,_ Hermione wrote quickly, feeling empty. _I'm going to go sleep now. You're a great friend._

_Wait, don't go..._

_Why don't you want me to go? It's late, and I'm tired. Good night. _She felt hot tears filling her eyes and wanted to stop talking to him before she had to let her feelings out.

She shut the book before she could read his reply.

* * *

**A/N: **Hey! Thanks for reading! A huge thank you to everybody who's been reviewing, you guys are AWESOME. :)

Thank you as well to my betas - Vanilla Cookie and WinterWhirls :) You are fantabulous people! -heart-

Okay, so, a few people have told me how they're a little tired of flashbacks and want stuff to happen in real life. Just to assure you guys... I think the next chapter is the last one with a memory or a flashback! So it'll all be real life from Chapter 13 on!

Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Tell me what you think of it :) Sorry it's not too exciting. Please keep reading!

You give me a review.. I give you a smile. :) Or, a cybersmile. Haha. Love you!


	12. Chapter 12: To Me

**Disclaimer: **O Harry Potter, why must thou elude my ownership?

* * *

Chapter 12 - To Me

Flashback - December 12:

"That's enough, Hermione," she scolded herself at ten o'clock one night. She'd ignored Draco for a week and a few days, and she didn't see him around at all anymore since the tenth of December. Maybe it was time to give in and say sorry.

She sighed, knocking on his door reluctantly. Her stubborn nature had to be overcome sometime, didn't it?

Nobody answered the door. After waiting a few more moments, she opened the door unceremoniously and entered the room, her hands on her hips. "He should be in here sleeping by now," she muttered and glanced around the room. The bed was made and the window was slightly ajar, allowing a soft breeze to flutter in. The room itself had an empty, abandoned feeling, as if nobody had been there for a few days.

"Draco?"

Still silence.

Walking towards his desk, the only part of the room that wasn't tidy, Hermione saw a note addressed to her, and opened it quickly.

_December 10_

_Dear Hermione,_

_I'm sorry I can't go to Hogsmeade with you. I said I'd tell you soon - and I guess the time has come to acknowledge 'soon'. Remember how I told you before that I didn't want to hurt you? The reason is because I'm leaving today. Since you've been ignoring me for the whole week, I didn't think we'd talk any time soon anyway, and that's why I decided to leave this note for you, because we didn't make up before I left._

_There are so many things I never got to tell you that I really ought, and since we will never meet again, I'll tell you everything here. I'm a bad person. Finally, I had the chance to look into a mirror. I saw through my physical appearance and was able to reflect on the path I've chosen to walk, and I hated it. I hated what I saw, I hated me. I've realized it earlier this year, and it's still a little hard to admit. I guess I realized it when I was in here with you. Also, I didn't get to tell you that I don't care at all about blood status. I've known this for a really long time - ever since I met you, I believe - but I never told you. Look at our reputations. I'm not a good person, but I'm pureblooded. You're a good, innocent person, and you're a Muggleborn. I'd be stupid if I still thought purebloods are always better than everybody else. Maybe that's why I don't think I'm any better than Weasley. Now, you might say that I changed - hopefully you've realized that by now - and I did change. But I guess I didn't change fast enough, because I did something terrible before school started this year. And that's why I can't go to Hogsmeade with you._

_Today I'm having a hearing at the Ministry because I killed someone over the summer. I didn't want to tell you, because I know I'm a different person from what I was before, and if I told you, you would be hurt and scared and angry at the person I was. You can blame me for being a coward; I know it's all my fault. I hope you know that I'm not the person I chose to be before, and I don't intend to kill anymore - if I survive Azkaban, that is. I know I'm going to prison, because all the evidence points to me. _

_To be honest, I didn't want to kill. It made me sick, and I didn't think it was fair to whoever I killed - what gives me the right to decide when their life ends? I know, I'm a Malfoy and I shouldn't be having these soppy thoughts, but I do have feelings, thanks to my mother. Voldemort made me kill this person. He said that if I didn't, he would personally kill everybody I ever cared about, including that Muggleborn girl with the bushy brown hair I met and befriended when I was little, before school. I don't know how he found out about that, but I can guess my father had something to with it._

_I hope you're not worried about me, because you have no reason to be. I've come to accept my fate, and I'm not scared of death. I deserve imprisonment. At least I won't feel guilty anymore, knowing that I'm paying my debts to the wizarding world. _

_Again, I'm sorry. I really like you, Hermione, and you're a wonderful friend - if that's what we are - but I didn't want to hurt you by going out with you and then leaving the same day. It wouldn't have been fair to you. I hope you find someone to fall in love with, because you deserve the happy ending I never had. _

_Draco Malfoy_

She felt so selfish and stupid, and surprisingly, not at all angry at him. The only thing she wished for was that she had known the explanation earlier, so they could have spent more time together before he had to go. He killed one person to save the lives of many others. It was Voldemort's fault, not his. A part of her desperately hoped that this was some kind of joke, that he was just hiding in here somewhere; even though she knew how improbable that was. Ignoring the rational part of herself, she checked every corner of the room, always expecting him to jump out at her with a silly grin on his face. If this was really a joke, it wasn't funny...

"Draco, are you still here?" she asked almost desperately, clinging on to the last hope that he was pranking her.

He wasn't.

Realizing it, Hermione gave up, retired to her room, and fell on the bed crying.

oOoOo

"Hey," Hermione said, out of breath as she heaved her bag onto the dinner table. Harry and Ron grinned at her as she opened a book about Transfiguration and propped it up against a plate to read while eating.

Ron's face suddenly went pale. "Ugh! I haven't done my Transfiguration essay yet!"

"Random, much?" Harry smiled.

Shaking his head, Ron pointed at Hermione's book. "McGonagall wants that two-foot essay, remember?"

Harry closed his eyes. "Only too well."

"I've already finished," Hermione said absently. The two of them weren't surprised.

"Wanna let us copy?" Ron suggested brightly. He busied himself with dinner as she shot him a glare.

Hermione ate a bit of pasta before flipping the page, ignoring them. Harry glanced at Ron. "What do you mean, let _us_? I'm already done."

Ron let out an indignant yelp. "But you said you remember only too well about that essay!"

"Yes, I said that because it was a pain to finish."

Ron groaned. "When did you finish it?"

"Two nights before. You were out with Lavender, remember?" Harry said, buttering a baked potato. Ron looked at Hermione uneasily, but she only shrugged.

"Harry," Ron whined. "Now I have to do it all alone! It's a Transfiguration essay, you know I'm bad at that! And Hermione won't even let me copy!"

Hermione smiled to herself, thinking he was bad at any kind of essay. Harry shrugged at Ron. "Poor you," he said but his tone wasn't very sympathetic. "Have fun finishing it."

Hermione giggled.

"What's so funny?" Ron frowned at her.

"Nothing," she said airily, calming down.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Obviously it's not nothing, Hermione."

"Well, no, it's not nothing."

Ron growled. "Then what is it?"

Hermione ate the last bit of pasta before getting up. "Oh, it's just that Harry said something Draco said to me before." Grinning, she left the table.

"So it's Draco now?" Ron called, casting a suspicious look at her retreating back.

oOoOo

_I still remember the note you wrote to me,_ Hermione scribbled.

_Do you still have it? _Hopeful words.

_Yeah, it's in my desk. And ... I have a question._

_What is it?_

_Who was that Muggleborn with the frizzy brown hair?_

_I'm not sure...I can't remember. _Hermione didn't believe him.

She bit her lip. _Were you friends with her?_

_Yes. I really liked her. _His response seemed careful and guarded, and Hermione decided to pry just a little more.

_Did she mean anything ... more to you?_

_She was my very first friend and I would always talk about her at the dinner table. _

_Oh. _Hermione wrote, biting her lip again, not quite knowing what to say. Inexplicably, something told her there was more that he was just not telling her. She was saved from having to give a longer response when he wrote back. She paused, rereading the sentence a few times in case she read it wrong. When her mind confirmed the words, she was still a little disbelieving. Nevertheless, she gave a sad smile.

_My mother kept teasing me about loving her. _

_

* * *

_**A/N: **Wow! 100 reviews! THANKS EVERYBODY, THANKS SO MUCH :) ! Keep it uppppp! -cyberhugs for you all!-

Super sorry for the late update. I've been overwhelmed with homework and I'm sick. Blah.

The amazing Vanilla Cookie and the fantabulous WinterWhirls beta-ed this chapter. A million thank you's!

Just wondering - do you prefer my A/Ns before the chapter or after?

Hope you liked the chapter. :) Please let me know what you thought in a review! Thanks again!


	13. Chapter 13: Caught Unawares

**Disclaimer: **If you sued me for claiming that I own Harry Potter, I would be very sad. Tears would fill my eyes, my expression one of hurt. My hands would tremble at the gaping wound you left when you accused me of claiming ownership of Harry Potter. I'm just an innocent fan! Don't you feel _pity_? No? Ah, well, guess I'd better try something else. Meanwhile, don't sue.

* * *

Chapter 13 - Caught Unawares

Green meadows.

Blooming flowers.

Singing birds...

Bliss.

Even though in the present-world Hermione was busy mixing her potion, in her mind she was dancing in a meadow, her bare feet brushing dew off the lush green grass.

"Class, pour a sample of your potion into a vial and bring it up here," drawled Snape. His voice was distant, as if obscured by a cloud.

A clear voice cut through her thoughts. _Pour your sample and give it to him._

She ladled a bit of her turquoise potion, put it in a vial, stoppered it, and handed it to Snape, just as Neville scurried up with his orange potion. Snape gave her a curt nod before she went back to sit down. Watching as Harry beamed as he carried his perfect turquoise potion up to Snape, the commanding voice in her head hissed softly.

_Trip him._

Instantly, without thinking, Hermione flicked her wand, muttering a jinx. Then she returned to the meadow, where the sun beamed and there were no clouds to be seen for miles on end.

She heard a faint shout and broke out of her reverie.

"My potion!" yelled Harry as he got up from where he lay a few moments ago. His vial lay shattered on the ground, with its contents spilled all over the floor. "It was perfect this time!"

Snape glided over, smirking. "I guess it's a zero for you again, Potter," he murmured. Harry seethed as he cleared up the mess with a flick of his wand, and went back to his seat.

What had just happened? Hermione wondered. Why was she even holding her wand out like this? Tucking it back into her robes, she frowned, confused. She didn't even remember taking it out... Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the bell; as if waking up from a trance, she gathered her books quickly and left the room.

"Boy, am I glad for lunch!" Ron grumbled as he caught up with her. Hermione smiled at him; he was _always_ hungry.

"So am I," Hermione admitted. The daydream in the meadow kind of drained her of energy. Maybe she was too happy there and ran off too much steam.

"Turkey!" yelled Ron as he dashed towards the Gryffindor table, quickly sitting down and grabbing food. He ignored the disapproving look Ginny shot at him.

Turning away, Hermione felt happy again as her mind was lost in the meadows.

Her voice acted of its own accord; she had no control over it. "Hey Ginny, could I come over to your room today?" she said, smiling brightly. "We haven't spend time together in ages!"

Though Ginny's eyes displayed surprise, Hermione couldn't notice because she was now feeding chattering squirrels in her little happy world. "Oh, sure," Ginny said, smiling too, after she got over the shock.

Happily, the two girls ate. Harry bustled over, his robes ruffled. When Ron turned around to pat Harry down, Hermione's hand reached forward to get something, while she slipped into her happy world again. She smirked as her hand drew back.

Only when Ron yelled did Hermione break out of her trance.

"MY TONGUE!" Ron howled, gulping down pumpkin juice. His face was very red and his ears looked like they were on fire. A couple of passing Slytherins chortled at him.

"There must have been pepper in your food," Ginny commented.

Ron's eyes were watering. "I didn't have pepper in my food before!" he yelped, panting, grabbing any goblet in his reach and draining it. Hermione could imagine steam billowing out of his ears too.

She smirked to herself. Suspicious, Ron frowned at her after cooling down. "I've never seen you with that expression before."

Quickly she put on an innocent, confused expression. "What do you mean? What expression?"

Ron gestured at her face, still frowning slightly. "That... that..."

"It's rude to point," she scolded him lightly, smiling. Taking a piece of bread for herself, she frowned as she noticed bits of pepper on her hand. She didn't remember touching pepper in the last few minutes.

oOoOo

"Welcome to my new room," announced Ginny majestically. Grinning, Hermione shoved her and followed her in.

"I share the room with a few others, but they're all out now... not sure what they're doing." Ginny didn't seem to care very much.

Hermione looked around the room. "It feels nice to be in one of these dormitories again. The Head dormitories feel so different."

"Don't rub it in," groaned Ginny. "Not everybody gets a luxurious dormitory like you do."

Walking around, Hermione looked at Ginny's possessions. She grinned and nodded in approval as she noticed all her books piled up near her desk. Nearing her drawer, she peered curiously into the pots standing there, noticing a few bright colours inside.

"What's this?" Hermione asked as she touched one of the little pots. "Is this paint?"

Ginny giggled. "No, silly, that's my make-up!"

"I never use make-up," Hermione said thoughtfully. "I never knew you did!"

"Haha, yeah... Dean got it for me a few Christmases before, so I thought, why not?"

Hermione murmured before she heard a crash downstairs. Ginny's eyes widened. "Oh no, that's my Pigmy Puff... Give me a second, all right? Stay here." As she dashed out the room, Hermione heard Ginny's voice yelling "Arnold, stay away from that lamp...!"

Smiling to herself, she entered her little happy place again. Subconsciously, her hand came out of her pockets with her wand, and she mumbled a few spells to mix up the make-up, so different substances were in different pots with different labels. Then her paradise world vanished and she jerked back to reality, confused. There were a few minutes before that she couldn't remember what she was doing; an empty space in her memory. She looked at the smears of colour on her hands and wiped them on her robes, wondering where they came from.

Ginny burst into the room again. "Hey, Hermione," she panted, holding up her Pygmy Puff. "Sorry, Arnold gets over-excited sometimes and knocks over things..." Arnold chattered and squirmed in Ginny's hand, earning a hiss from Ginny. Hermione smiled.

They chatted about everything they used to chat about - school, friends, boys, teachers. Ginny told Hermione about her relationship with Harry; Hermione told Ginny how she wasn't in a relationship. Time passed quickly, and soon they went down to dinner together.

A few minutes later, Hermione blanked out and lost herself in imagination before being splattered with pumpkin juice. Indignantly, she focused her eyes again and noticed herself gripping her wand, pointing it at a jug of juice that had just been broken on Harry's head.

"_Scourgify_!" Ginny mumbled and all the juice cleared itself up. The shards of glass vanished as well.

"What happened?" Hermione asked, confused.

Ron gave her a weird look. "Um, you were watching us a moment ago... how can you not know?"

"I was... oh, I don't know. I always forget what I'm doing these days." Hermione shrugged.

Ron whispered in an undertone to Harry, "Does she have amnesia or something?" Harry shrugged, he didn't know the answer. Ginny quickly went to join some of her other friends. Shivering, Harry continued eating.

Hermione sighed quietly. "Well, I guess I'd better go now."

In reality, she didn't really have to go, but she wanted to write to the diary.

_Today has been a weird day_, she confessed.

_How so?_

_I keep daydreaming and feeling very happy. Every time I do, I can't remember what happened a few minutes before - and usually, a few minutes before is when something bad happens. For example, Harry tripped. Ron had pepper in his food. Stuff like that._

There was a pause before he answered. _Are you studying too hard again?_

_No, this has nothing to do with that!_

_How are you sure?_

_Well... After Ron started yelling, I snapped out of my trance and realized that I had pepper on my hands. It couldn't have been a coincidence because something similar happened three other times in the day._

_That's odd._

_Do you even believe me?_ she asked, almost desperately.

When he didn't reply for a few seconds, anxiety gnawed at her again. _Draco, I think I'm going insane! I keep losing my memory!_

_Don't worry, I'm still here with you._

_I know you are, but I'm still scared... What if I end up doing something terrible without even knowing I did it?

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**A/N: **Thank you all for the wonderful reviews, everybody! I really appreciate it. Keep it up!

Vanilla Cookie and WinterWhirls beta-ed this chapter. Let's give them a huge round of applause!

I hope you liked this chapter! Please tell me what you thought of it! :)

See you next chapter!


	14. Chapter 14: Lightswitch

**Disclaimer: **A disclaimer is a statement that denies something. But deny means to refuse to admit the truth or existence. So how does that make sense? If there's no such thing as the "something", why would you need the statement - and why would you need to refuse to admit the something? (Yeah, don't worry, I'm confused too.) I don't own anything except for my plot, and I hope you like my plot. :)

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Chapter 14 - Lightswitch

Hermione caught up to Ron and Harry as they hurried to Transfiguration.

"Hey guys," she panted. "Did you finish the essay about Vanishing Spells?"

"Yeah, but it took a long while," grumbled Harry.

"All because you wouldn't let us copy," said Ron accusingly. When she punched his arm, laughing, Ron grinned at her as the three of them rushed into the classroom together.

"Good afternoon, Professor McGonagall!" Hermione said. It had become a habit.

"Good afternoon, Miss Granger."

The trio sat down happily at one of the bigger tables, and took out their books and wands.

Hermione's hand felt her diary in her bag, but she decided not to take it out, in case it aroused any more suspicion.

Lavender and Parvati entered the classroom, giggling. Noticing Ron, Lavender squealed and rushed over to hug him. "Hello, Won-Won!" Ron closed his eyes in exasperation, giving Lavender a pained smile. Harry looked a little embarrassed, lowering his eyes and fiddling with his bag. Hermione turned around, pretending not to notice. Professor McGonagall gave Ron and Lavender a disapproving glance.

"Today we're doing Switching Spells on living animals," the professor called out as she handed everybody either a porcupine or a canary. "Wands out - turn the animal in front of you into a turtle."

A few spells shot through the class. As always, Hermione was the first to sit up straight, looking pleased with herself as she held up a turtle, which was a canary a few seconds ago.

"Well done, Miss Granger, ten points to Gryffindor. Class -"

There was a puff of purple smoke and a loud bang. Everybody turned to face the source of the noise. Seamus sat in the back, looking shocked as his porcupine exploded.

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and went to the back of the room to clean up for Seamus.

"Why does he always make things explode?" Ron wondered out loud.

"I dunno, maybe it runs in the family or something." Harry glanced at his animal. "I think mine looks more like a tortoise," he commented. "Except it still has the spines the porcupine used to have."

Ron snorted. "Better than mine, at least," he muttered, showing them his canary, which had turned a violent shade of purple.

"Maybe you weren't concentrating enough," suggested Hermione, smiling.

"No kidding."

After a few more tries during which Ron's canary sprouted an extra beak and turned electric blue, the bell finally rang to signal the end of the class.

"An essay on Switching Spells for living animals is for homework, due next class," Professor McGonagall instructed as she cleared up the rest of the animals. "Since none of you other than Miss Granger can get the spell right, even now."

As they exited the classroom, Lavender bounded up to the trio immediately, to start flirting. Ron blushed furiously and tried to wave her off. Soon, Hermione's mind slipped into paradise, a dreamy expression on her face. As Lavender slunk away, pouting, Hermione pointed her wand at the other girl's robes. They immediately started to shrink -

"Hermione! What are you doing?" yelled Harry, as he lowered her wand hand. Hermione could barely hear his voice through the mist of the nice world her mind was in again.

"Stop, Hermione!" the two of them grabbed her and pushed her against the wall, stopping the spell.

"Don't touch me, filthy halfblood," Hermione snarled.

Harry gaped at her. "You -"

"I mean it. I'll curse you." Hermione now pointed her wand at Harry's chest.

A few birds came to rest on her shoulder in her dream world.

Ron and Harry let go and backed away, leaving Hermione free to wander around, occasionally crashing into walls. She was stuck in her own little world for the rest of the day.

Harry frowned as they watched her from above. "I think there's something wrong with her," he said.

"Clearly," Ron muttered. "Let's keep an eye on her today."

"Do you think she's just mad about Lavender?" suggested Harry.

"Nah, she wouldn't be that irrational over small things like that, would she?"

Harry shrugged. "Maybe. I still can't believe she called me a filthy halfblood... She's Muggleborn herself!"

"She called me a blood traitor when we had a fight about Lavender. The one where she was acting a little weird, didn't I tell you about that?"

"Yeah, you did... that _is_ a bit odd."

They continued to ponder over it all the way to dinner. Sitting down a few seats away from Hermione, they watched her eat her food with a blank expression before getting up and leaving the Great Hall. Quickly, they rose and followed her.

"Hermione?" called Ron.

To the surprise of both of them, she was standing just outside of the Dining Hall, levitating Neville's toad onto the chandelier while laughing maniacally.

"Hermione!" yelled Harry, pointing his wand at the toad and bringing it down. "Why are you -"

Hermione began to run away, tripping over her own feet.

"There's something definitely wrong," said Ron, and the two of them chased Hermione until they saw her standing in front of her portrait.

Harry raised his wand, pointing it at her back. She turned around slowly, and they saw that her eyes were black, vacant and empty.

"It may be the Imperius curse," Ron said.

"But there's nobody around to Imperius her. She's in her dormitory alone all the time, remember?"

Ron frowned. "Oh, you're right. So I guess this _is _amnesia?"

Harry nodded, frowning as well. "I think I know a spell that might help... _Liberata Cogito!"_ said Harry, waving his wand, and she snapped out of her daze. The two guys were relieved to see her eyes slowly returning to chocolate brown.

"Hermione, I want you to go into your room and calm down. Think about what you were doing -" Harry instructed before being cut off.

"Wait, what _was _I doing?" she asked in a dreamy tone like Luna's. "I can't remember."

"You were levitating Neville's toad. Also, you shrank Lavender's robes." Ron recounted for her.

"I did?" Hermione asked, very confused. She couldn't remember a thing. "Wait, what am I doing here? The last thing I remember was being in the Transfiguration classroom... Have I even eaten yet?"

Ron gave her a concerned look and stepped forward. "What happened?" he asked very seriously, looking deep into her eyes.

She glanced away uncomfortably. "I don't know," she told him truthfully. Hermione didn't like it when people tried to read her eyes; it made her incredibly self-conscious.

"Go into your room, calm down, and rest. It's been a long day," Harry said soothingly while patting her arm.

"Okay. Thanks guys," she said, perfectly happy despite being confused, before turning around and going into her dormitory.

Harry and Ron exchanged bewildered glances before setting off towards the Gryffindor dormitory.

"What was I doing?" Hermione asked herself. "I didn't even do anything to Lavender... I don't even remember touching Neville's toad..."

She thought about what they said she did today. She couldn't remember what she was doing even a few minutes ago.

Approaching a mirror near her wardrobe, she looked at her reflection. She didn't feel any different from before, but her eyes were still a little darker than usual and her expression was grim and brooding, not at all like herself. She slowly brought up her hand to touch the cold glass of the mirror.

"Who are you?" Hermione whispered.

**

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**A/N: **And that, dear readers, is chapter 14.

If you liked it, please **review**! :) If you didn't like it, please **review** too! :)

Predictions for future chapters are always welcome. Always, always, always!

Readers and reviewers - you guys ROCK!

Chapter beta-ed by Vanilla Cookie and WinterWhirls. THANK YOU! -hug-

Thanks everybody for all the support, it keeps me going 8)! Love you!


	15. Chapter 15: Secrets and More

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing but my plot, which is about to become more dramatic as pinches of darkness is added... -dark music plays.-

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Chapter 15 - Secrets and More

Draco Malfoy frowned as he sat up, rubbing his head. His back was almost used to aching every morning from sleeping on the hard stone ground. Almost. How he wished he had covers, or a mattress, or something even remotely comfortable.

Shivering, he hugged his legs while rocking back and forth. The prisoner uniform they made the criminals wear wasn't the best choice of outfit on a cold day, but the human guards had never cared much about their well-being anyway. _At least I'm still alive,_ thought Draco bitterly, though it wasn't much of an encouragement. He didn't know how exactly he kept his sanity, but burning hatred raged on in his mind at the thought of being imprisoned, and the Dementors couldn't take that away from him.

A Dementor took a rattling breath and Draco felt his energy drain away again. Slightly dizzy, he tried to stand up, holding onto the wall of his cell.

"What day is it today?" he called feebly to a guard, his voice shaking.

"March 3rd. No closer to when you'll be freed. Let's guess why - Oh, I know! You won't ever be freed. You'll stay here until you die," the guard leered.

He rolled his eyes, and even that small movement was difficult to manage. That guard always had to rub it in; he'd say it every single day, every chance he got.

A few minutes later, he couldn't stand his hunger any more. "Could I have food?" he asked one of his other guards. They always provided the prisoners with three small meals a day, and his stomach was protesting. His appearance was starting to reflect the fact that he was being starved - his cheeks were hollow and his bones were more prominent. Lines on his face were more visible, giving him a weary look. A scar ran from under his eye to his jaw, a reminder of the burly guard with brown hair who tossed him into the cell on his first day. He had cut his cheek on an abnormally sharp rock after being unceremoniously hurled to the ground.

The same guard strolled over, smirking at the pitiful sight of him, and tossed in a piece of bread. Hitting the ground, a bit of dust puffed up from where it landed.

"I'm not eating that," Draco complained, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall for support. The guard gave him a glare before slowly unlocking the door. Not for the first time, Draco considered running out the door to escape. But he knew he wouldn't even manage to get to the door, let alone swim across the ocean to freedom. He was too weak.

"Maybe you should eat this," the guard whispered as he held out his fist, his eyes gleaming. The guard punched Draco hard in the face, and watched triumphantly as he staggered and fell, clutching his nose. "I've always wanted to do that, you filthy scum."

"You've done that many times already," Draco thought to himself, his breath coming in ragged gulps. His nose felt broken, and despair flooded him as the lock clicked again and the door slammed shut.

Feeling nauseous, he collapsed on the floor. Half of his brain felt like it was working, but the other half felt like it was being controlled. It was as if it wasn't him being controlled, it was only some part of him. He frowned and tried to shake it off by distracting himself. He turned to the wall on his left, where he kept a tally of how many days he'd been here. With the sharp rock, he carved another line. It was his eighty-third day in Azkaban.

"Eighty-three," he murmured to himself. "Hermione's favourite number."

Smiling grimly, he turned to the right wall. He felt his face - his nose was definitely broken and it was still oozing blood, but his eye hurt too. It was swollen and it hurt when he pressed around it. "Black eye," he mumbled quietly, grimacing. "The twenty-ninth," he commented as he tallied it as well.

Eighty-three and twenty-nine, he thought. What a coincidence.

oOoOo

Hermione felt refreshed after waking up. It was a sunny Saturday morning, and she enjoyed the warmth. She left the diary on her dresser.

"Hello!" she called out as she caught up to Harry and Ron on her way to the Dining Hall for breakfast. "I'm starving!"

Harry smiled at her. "Back to normal?"

"You bet!" she grinned.

"Let's check - what was the first thing you said to us this morning?" joked Ron.

"I said, Hello, I'm starving." Hermione rolled her eyes. "Seriously Ron, is that necessary -"

"YES, IT'S HERMIONE!" he roared genially and patted her on the back. A few passing Hufflepuffs darted away, frightened.

"Um... Ron, are you feeling all right?" Hermione hissed, embarrassed, ducking her head.

"YES!" he said loudly. "I feel just fine!"

Harry gave him a wide-eyed look, then shrugged. "If you say so..."

"I say so! Yes, I do! I said I feel fine!" Ron said importantly as they sat down.

"Pass the marmalade," Hermione requested as she took a bit of toast.

Ron passed it over to her, looking more like his normal self. "Sorry, I guess it's just... I haven't seen the sun in so long."

Harry laughed. "It's fine, mate. I go crazy sometimes too."

"But I go the craziest," Hermione protested, sounding like she was bragging.

The two boys agreed, looking away from each other in case they grinned too big.

"Are you two behind on homework?" she checked.

"No, I've actually finished with my Potions essay! I only have to do Transfiguration and that Charms essay. Ha, Harry, beat you to it this time -" Ron crowed, but Harry stopped him.

"I've finished Potions too, and I'm halfway through Transfigur -"

"Why are you always ahead of me?" grumbled Ron, sulkily picking at his toast.

"Because Lavender's always hanging around you, maybe?" Harry was used to mentioning Lavender, now that Hermione always ignored it and turned away when he talked about her.

Hermione ignored it and turned away.

When the topic came away from Lavender, Hermione stood up. "I think we're done here," she commented. "Wanna go for a walk?"

"Sure," Ron agreed. "But then you have to help us with homework."

Hermione rolled her eyes.

oOoOo

"The Switching Spell is simple," Hermione dictated from her piece of parchment. "But it requires intensive concentration. The incantation must be said while focusing on the -"

"Could you repeat it slower?" asked Ron, his hand flying over the page.

"Sorry. Oh, by the way, you spelt 'concentration' wrong, Ron... Okay, let's keep going - the incantation -"

"Hold on, incantation..." Harry muttered as he wrote.

This went on for about an hour. When they finally finished, Hermione collapsed in her seat, tired but still smiling. "That took a long time!" she said.

"Yeah, because you made us write so much!" Ron complained, holding up a foot of parchment.

Hermione scoffed and held up her own piece of parchment - three feet long. "I took out bits of mine for yours," she told him. "And it's your own fault you don't write fast enough."

They glanced at the clock. "It's late," said Harry, yawning as he stood up to stretch. "We'd better go to sleep. Good night, Hermione."

"Hope you're still normal tomorrow," Ron grinned.

She shuddered. "I'm kind of scared..."

"Do you want to stay in here tonight?" Ron asked, suddenly serious, dropping the grin.

"Uh..."

"We can keep you company and fight off whoever's putting you under the amnesia spell," Ron said convincingly.

"Wait, what spell?" Hermione frowned.

"Nothing... but we suspect something's going on," Harry explained. "Nobody knows but us, so don't worry about it. Go get your stuff and we'll wait for you in the boys' dormitory."

"The boys' -" Hermione protested.

"Yeah, only we know, remember? It should stay that way..."

In an undertone, Ron added, "Yeah, nobody should know about your mental disability..."

"Oh, all right," Hermione huffed. She went to her room to get her cloak and a few books, including the diary, and came back up to knock on their door.

She laid out all her stuff on the bed they'd conjured for her, and smiled at them both. "Thanks," she said as she pulled the curtains around the bed closed. She lay down and tried to sleep.

In the middle of the night, her murky dreams began to change into the happy paradise again. Sitting up, she grabbed her wand and rubbed her eyes. She felt giddy and happy, not knowing what she was doing, and pointed her wand at the motionless sleeping form of Harry. "_Incendio!_"' she muttered and his robes caught on fire. Harry mumbled in his sleep.

Hermione quickly gathered all her things and ran out of the Gryffindor dormitories, running all the way to her own dormitory. Then she stopped.

"What am I doing here?" she wondered. The last thing she remembered was that she fell asleep and started to dream. Why was she standing outside her dormitory now? Hermione frowned, opening the door, and settled herself into her bed. She didn't sleep for the rest of the night.

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**A/N: **It's been so long since I last updated. Soo sorry! I have good reasons though - ffnet's Harry Potter editing thing was down. But thanks to CherriLuvsMusic, I found a way to update still! Thanks Cherri! xD

Hope you liked the drama in this chapter. ;) Did I catch any of you off guard?

The betas for this chapter: Vanilla Cookie and WinterWhirls. WHOO! THANKS :)

To all reviewers and readers - you rock! -cheers-

Please tell me what you think. :)

Love you!


	16. Chapter 16: Fearful Blaming

** Disclaimer: **No.

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Chapter 16 - Fearful Blaming

"Wake up!" Ron yelled, banging on Hermione's door urgently.

Hermione sat up sharply, shutting her eyes for a few seconds as she felt her head swimming. The banging continued and she got up, walking over to the door quickly. She came out, clutching the diary, alarmed as Ron stood right in front of her.

"Come on, we have to go see Harry!" he shouted, already running towards the hospital wing.

"Why? What happened?" Hermione asked while following Ron, scared.

"He got set on fire in the middle of the night!"

Hermione's eyes widened in shock. "Who set him on fire?" she demanded, pausing in her step.

Ron grabbed her hand and pulled her along. "Come on!" he urged, bursting through the hospital doors. There was only one bed occupied.

Ginny was already there, sitting next to Harry and holding his hand. Hermione gasped as she saw him. He was wrapped in bandages, and parts of his face that weren't bandaged up were covered with a soothing aloe balm. Hermione sat down next to his bed.

"Harry..." she whispered.

He didn't stir.

Ron sat down beside Hermione, defeated. Ginny was crying silently.

Madam Pomfrey rushed over. "He's alive," she reported. "Just needs some time ... and he needs to drink this energy potion. Could one of you give it to him in half an hour? I'm making a few concoctions in my office for special remedies right now."

Hermione stood up and volunteered for the job. Madam Pomfrey gave her a small smile. "Make sure to give it to him. Don't forget. It's vital for his health." Nodding, Hermione took the goblet and sat down. Madam Pomfrey hurried back into her office.

Ron got up to put his arm around Ginny. Hermione sat facing them, frowning down at the goblet.

"Is it just me, or does this potion seem a little too pale?" asked Hermione. She held out the goblet for the Weasleys to inspect. Ginny sniffled, turning away, but Ron leaned forward and looked at the pale blue potion.

"I don't know. It's Madam Pomfrey's potion, after all..."

Hermione grimaced. "Yes, but energy potions are supposed to be a darker blue, not this pale robin's egg blue."

"Why don't you ask Madam Pomfrey?" suggested Ron, not looking up at her.

"Ugh. You're no help."

Hermione sat back, rolling her eyes. Her hand made contact with the diary, and her mind slipped into bliss again. Grinning madly, she stood up, put the goblet down, and rushed into the Herbology greenhouse to get hellebore, an extremely poisonous ingredient. She tucked it away in her robes and hurried back, adding a bit to Harry's potion. Slowly, it turned a darker shade of blue. Satisfied, she smiled and came back to reality.

She looked down at the potion, still smiling, before freezing. "Hey, Ron, wasn't this potion a lighter blue a few moments before?" she asked.

Ron sighed and looked at the potion. He frowned. "Yeah, it was..." Leaning forward, he muttered, "Where were you?"

"What do you mean? I was here all this time -"

"Oh no, did it happen again?" Ron demanded.

"Did what happen again?"

"Your ... mental issue."

"I don't have a mental issue!" she gasped, offended.

Ron narrowed his eyes. "Well, these days you seem to forget many things."

"I'm overworked. I'm so tired from the homework load." Hermione sighed. "Remember, I take more classes than you do."

"Yeah, well, I hope you get back to normal soon."

"At least I remember everything I've read!" Hermione snapped.

"You remember every single word that's ever crossed your path, yet you can't remember what you did a few seconds ago." Ron sounded disbelieving.

"I'm serious, all I remember is that I was sitting here, looking down at the potion that was a lighter blue!" Hermione felt frustrated that Ron wouldn't believe her.

"No, you left the room and you came back. I saw you." Ron set his jaw stubbornly.

She clenched her fists, glaring at him. "Well, I don't remember!"

Ron sat back, groaning. "Just... just be careful, okay?"

"Am I not always?" she asked.

Ginny looked up angrily. "Can you two stop whispering? It's inappropriate for the situation right now."

Ron and Hermione gave her an apologetic look. Swiftly, Hermione lifted her arm and glanced at her watch. "Oh, it's been thirty minutes... I guess I'll give him the potion then..."

Giving Ron an anxious look, Hermione tilted the goblet towards Harry's mouth, which she held open. She paused, frowning. "Ron... do you think it's... safe?"

"Yeah, probably. Just pour it in already."

Hermione poured the potion into Harry's mouth. A bit of it dribbled down some of his bandages but otherwise he drank everything. As soon as he swallowed, Hermione shut his mouth for him and sat back. Ginny watched his face intently for any signs of changes, and Ron started to pace nervously.

Suddenly, Harry started to twitch. Foam and bubbles appeared at his mouth. He made an odd choking noise, shaking violently.

Hermione dashed towards Madam Pomfrey's office. "There's something wrong with him!" she screeched. "I think he got poisoned!"

Madam Pomfrey raced over to Harry with a bezoar clutched in her hand and, forcing his mouth open, pushed it in. Harry shivered again and fell still. Thankfully, he was still breathing.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey demanded. "My potion didn't have poison in it!"

"I don't know, it turned a darker shade of blue... I can't remember why -"

"You ran out of the room, remember, Hermione?" Ron spoke suddenly.

Hermione shook her head. "I thought we went through this already, Ron! I don't remember! All I know is that one minute it was light blue and the next it was darker and now he's poisoned!" She finished explaining and burst into tears.

Madam Pomfrey patted her on the back. "It's okay, dear, I'll just take this goblet into my room to inspect..."

Hermione ran out of the hospital wing and into her dormitory.

_I don't know what's going on! she wrote in the diary. I can't remember what happened exactly /comma/ but I think I just poisoned Harry!_

_What? How did you do that?_

_I don't know, I can't remember, it's all so confusing! One minute I saw light blue potion, then I blanked out and then the potion was dark blue! Then I had to make Harry drink it and he did and he started to foam at the mouth!_

_Hermione, calm down! He's not dead, is he?_

_No, he's not but I'm so worried! I want to know who did it! _Hermione's eyes were wild.

_Do you have any idea who did it?_

_No, but whoever did doesn't wish him well. I really want to know who did it! I think Ron suspects me._

_Weasley's just stupid. Don't worry. You did nothing wrong._

_I hope not. _Hermione was still fretting.

_What do you mean?_

_I... I don't remember what I did._

Back in the hospital wing, Ginny was asleep in her chair. Ron was talking quietly with Madam Pomfrey.

"Do you know who did it?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

Ron shook his head. "Nope. I've no idea."

"Has anybody fiddled with the potion at all?"

"No, only Hermione held it..." Ron said softly.

"Do you think... maybe Hermione put something in -"

"Hermione would never do such a thing! She's our best friend!" Ron interrupted her angrily.

"Then come up with an explanation. If Hermione's the only one who held the potion - if nobody else touched it - who else could it have been?" Madam Pomfrey demanded, knowing she was right.

"I - I..." Ron knew that Madam Pomfrey was right, and her suspicions were probably true. But he didn't want to get his best friend in trouble, so he took out his wand. Before he could stop to think rationally, he raised his wand, pointing it at her, "Obliviate." He removed the recent events from her memory. Madam Pomfrey bid him a good night, and returned to her office.

But the nagging feeling of suspicion and worry didn't go away. Could Hermione really have poisoned Harry? It might explain why she went out of the hospital wing. He also suspected that she lit him on fire, because she wasn't in the dormitory after that night. Obviously, she had fled. But Hermione was their best friend - what reason did she have to kill Harry?

Ginny awakened when he accidentally bumped her shoulder.

"I heard that conversation with Madam Pomfrey," she murmured, blinking sleepily.

Ron froze. "Uh..."

Ginny gave him a grim look. "I want to deny it too, Ron, but it doesn't help to hide from the truth. There's only one person it could have been. Madam Pomfrey's right. It was Hermione who tried to poison Harry."

* * *

**A/N: **I'm sorry for my very late update! So many things have been going on in my already hectic life, it's crazy! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Please leave a review! Hopefully some of you are still reading... -hopes-

Vanilla Cookie and WinterWhirls are amazing betas. Round of applause!


	17. Chapter 17: Wishes, Wishes

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Harry Potter. I don't own Harry Potter. (bangs head on wall, cross-eyed)

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**Chapter 17 - Wishes, Wishes**

Hermione woke up to sunshine and bird calls, immediately reaching for the diary. _Good morning!_ she wrote happily, but, remembering that Harry was due to be out of the hospital today, realised that she couldn't have a nice long conversation with Draco. It took a long time for him to heal - it was the first of May now - but at least he got better. Although there were still a few visible burn marks on his face, he looked fine otherwise.

Putting on her robes, grabbing her books including the diary, and shoving them into a bag, she hurried over to the hospital wing and saw Harry sitting up, rubbing his eyes. Ginny and Ron weren't there yet.

"Hey, Harry!" she called, rushing over to hug him.

He winced. "It still hurts, you know," he complained, and she let go, still beaming at him.

"Are you feeling all right?" Hermione asked, almost bouncing up and down with excitement.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He rubbed his eyes again before putting on his glasses, blinking sleepily.

Hermione smiled. "That's great! Are you excited to come out of the hospital today?"

"Yeah, sure."

"I wonder what their reactions will be! Snape won't be too happy but I'm sure the rest of us will be thrilled! Except the Slytherins, of course, but who cares, as long as you're okay!" she gushed, feeling giddy.

"Yeah, okay."

Hermione frowned. "Is something wrong? You're acting a bit weird."

"Uh... I'm not."

"Yeah, you are! You've barely said a word today!" Hermione said. "Are you mad at me?"

Ron came in. "Hm, I wonder_ why_ he'd be mad at you," he muttered.

Hermione turned to him. "What do you mean? Harry's not mad at me, are you?" she turned back to face Harry anxiously. But Harry was too busy talking to Ginny. She realized that he didn't seem to have any problems talking to_ her_...

"Why would he be mad at me?" demanded Hermione.

Ron sighed. "If you don't know, I'm probably not the right one to tell you."

"But -"

Madam Pomfrey rushed in. "You lot had better get down to breakfast! I hope you haven't forgotten that you still have classes today!" she said sternly, shooing them out. Ginny and Ron were supporting Harry, and since Hermione didn't have much to do, she went to breakfast a little bit earlier.

When they finally came down, she had finished buttering toast for all of them. "Come on, guys! If you don't hurry up you'll be late!"

The three of them sat down facing her, one on each side of Harry, and they accepted the bread from Hermione. "Thanks," Ron muttered.

Hermione glanced at Ron. "Are you mad at me too?"

"Err, no..."

"Okay. Well," she said brightly. "I'm glad you're out of the hospital now, Harry!"

"Thanks." Harry crammed the last bit of toast in his mouth. "Well, I suppose we'd better get going, or McGonagall will have our heads."

Ron grinned at Harry. "She'd be too happy to see you alive to do anything drastic if we're late."

"Nah, I wouldn't put anything past her..."

Hermione followed them into the Transfiguration classroom.

"Hurry up, find your seats," Professor McGonagall said briskly. "We're doing Conjuration today, and I want all of you to have as much practice as possible."

Ron took Harry to one of the desks and they sat down; Hermione noticed that there were only two chairs by the desk. A little hurt, she went to another desk and sat down by herself, looking gloomily at the pair of them. She also couldn't help looking at the desk where they normally sat; it was empty now.

"Hey," Blaise's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Mind if I join you?"

"Oh, sure," she said absent-mindedly.

"Why aren't you sitting with Potter and Weasley today?" he asked curiously, glancing at the pair, who were chatting animatedly among themselves.

Hermione glanced at him. "Err, I don't know... maybe Harry wants a bit of space."

Blaise's brow furrowed. "Yeah, I heard that he got burnt up in the night and then he got poisoned."

"Yes, he did."

Blaise sighed. "Sucks to be him."

"Conjuration is a branch of Transfiguration when you conjure something out of thin air. _Accio quills_," Professor McGonagall said, and all the students' quills soared towards her and landed in a neat pile on her desk. "I want you to conjure a quill by the end of today's lesson. Remember to focus."

The class tried the spell. Hermione's face was red with effort but, as usual, she was the first to conjure a quill. She smiled down at it slightly, trying not to look too happy with herself.

Blaise gave her a grimace. "How do you _do_ that?" he asked, waving his wand in the air. He muttered a spell and his quill soared back to him. "Haha, look I did it, I did it -"

Professor McGonagall gave him a disapproving look. "Mr. Zabini, I told you to Conjure a quill, not summon it from my desk!" She took the quill back.

Groaning, he gave a few more half-hearted attempts before getting bored. Hermione giggled.

"Just concentrate," she told him. "Have a clear image of a quill in your mind."

By now, a few more students had a quill in front of them. Only Hermione had more than one; she had at least a dozen on her desk.

Blaise muttered the spell again and waved his wand. A feather appeared, and he looked delighted.

"Erm, not quite. A quill, not a feather, remember?" Hermione prompted.

He sighed and tried again, this time producing a quill.

"Yeah, good job!" she cheered. Ron shot a look at her, clearly wondering why she was being friendly to Zabini. She shrugged; Blaise told her about the diary, after all. And they didn't exactly have reason to hate each other, so why not be friends?

She and Blaise chatted for a few more minutes until class was over.

"See you," she called after him. After the afternoon classes, none of which Hermione, Harry, and Ron had together, she went down to dinner.

Hermione saw Harry and Ron, who were in front of her, rushing to the Great Hall too.

"Hey, wait up!" she yelled. She could have sworn Harry turned his head a little, but she saw Ron grab his arm and they started walking a little faster. Joining them at the table, she started to eat. When neither of them engaged her in conversation, she frowned. "What's up with you two? Why are you avoiding me?"

"We're... we're not avoiding you," Ron said, looking down. His ears were red.

Hermione huffed, standing up abruptly and walking out of the Great Hall. "Boys," she muttered.

Ron glanced at Harry. "Maybe she does have amnesia. She can't seem to remember that she almost killed you."

Hermione opened the diary and sat on her bed. _Harry and Ron are being so frustrating!_

_How?_

_They keep avoiding me, and I don't know why!_

_Did you do something?_

_No, not that I can remember of._

_Why don't you ask them?_

_They won't talk to me. They're being very awkward. Ron keeps telling me I have a mental issue ... maybe he's right._

_Maybe you just overworked yourself. Are you sure you're not too tired? You should get some rest._

_Yeah, maybe that's the best thing for me to do now. Good night. Hope I don't do anything in my sleep that'll get anybody else mad._ Her eyes welled up with bitter tears as she closed the diary crisply.

oOoOo

It was May 10th, ten days since Harry came out of the hospital. Hermione finished lunch and went to find Ginny.

"Hey, Ginny," Hermione said cautiously. Ginny, Ron, and Harry were still a little awkward around her.

Ginny gave her a nod. "Hey."

"Do you... do you know why Ron and Harry are mad at me?"

"I... I um... no."

"Why did you hesitate then?" Hermione asked. Ginny's ears reddened.

"Well, yes I do know but I can't tell you." Ginny tried to walk away, but Hermione grabbed her arm.

"I need to know! I don't know what I did wrong!"

"I don't want to tell you." Ginny glared at her.

"Why?"

"Because I'm mad at you too!"

"Why are you mad at me?" yelped Hermione.

"BECAUSE YOU TRIED TO KILL MY BOYFRIEND!" Ginny yelled.

"I didn't -" she protested.

"Yeah, you did!"

"Why would I want to kill Harry?" Hermione yelled angrily, shocked that Ginny would believe such a thing. "He's my best friend, remember?"

"Maybe Ron's right," Ginny muttered. "Maybe you do have amnesia." She stormed off.

Hermione went back to her room and flipped her calendar back six months to see the day she'd marked as "Draco Left." It had been half a year since he went to Azkaban.

She couldn't help wondering what would have been different if he hadn't left. Would he have been able to help her with her memory?

Well, she would have a friend for starters. Right now, she felt completely alone. The Slytherins were still cold, but Blaise was friendlier than usual. Still, she did not feel a sense of trust towards him, maybe because he was a Slytherin.

Harry and Ron had taken to ignoring her. They would skirt the hallways they saw her in, find tables farthest away from her, and just outright refuse to talk to her. At the Dining Hall, when they saw Hermione approaching, they would turn their backs. Hermione was angry that they would even entertain the thought that she tried to kill Harry.

Lavender and Parvati were never really close with Hermione. They had different interests - Hermione liked education while Lavender and Parvati were more into boys. Also, since Ron was ignoring Hermione, and Lavender was Ron's girlfriend, she followed his lead. Consequently, Parvati, who was Lavender's best friend, did so as well.

Dean and Seamus still gave her occasional smiles, but they were vague. She'd never really talked to them much before. Luna was still her dreamy self, difficult to converse with. She hadn't seen Hannah and Ernie around for a while now. Neville was always nice to her because she helped him on homework a lot, but he was behind on schoolwork, therefore unable to hang around and chat.

Hermione sighed. Being friendless meant that she would feel ashamed of walking down hallways alone. She would keep her head down in case somebody made fun of her, or in case she saw Harry and Ron purposely avoiding her. It hurt, but she hid it well.

And what was that nonsense about her trying to kill Harry? Harry was her best friend. And did they really think she was the sort of person who could ever kill _anyone_?

_Draco,_ she wrote desperately. _I don't have any friends!_

_What do you mean? You have me!_

_Yes, but you're not... you. You're part of your soul in a diary! I don't have any human friends at school right now! What do I do?_

_Make new friends._

_Who is there to make friends with?_ Hermione listed all the people she knew and the reasons she had for not making friends with them.

_Guess you only have me now._

_Yeah, guess so._

They talked for hours until Hermione went to dinner. When she came back up, she started writing anxiously again about Harry and Ron. She couldn't help noticing that with every word she wrote to Draco, his words became clearer and they stayed on the page for longer before fading.

* * *

**A/N: **Sorry about the late update! The story's almost over, guys, bear with me! The ending will be dramatic, for sure. Thanks for all my faithful reviewers. Hope you enjoyed this chapter!

Hey, readers.. please leave a review to let me know that you're still here. :-)

Betas - Vanilla Cookie and WinterWhirls. ROUND. OF. APPLAUSE.


	18. Chapter 18: Seeing Double

**Disclaimer: **Honestly, if I owned Harry Potter, I'd've shipped Draco/Hermione. Just sayin'.

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**Chapter 18 - Seeing Double**

Draco stood up slowly, counting the 182th tally on his wall. May 10. He'd been in Azkaban for half a year, and the time had completely changed him. He looked gaunt and malnourished, there were dark circles under his eyes from the lack of sleep, and his cheeks were hollow and paler than usual. He was very weak, barely able to move, and extremely moody all the time, thanks to the Dementors.

He stared at the stone wall facing him, thoughts racing in his head. What was there to live for? He would be stuck in this place for the rest of his life, doing nothing, feeling terrible. He hadn't seen sunshine in half a year, hadn't been talking to many people for half a year, hadn't been doing much of _anything_ for half a year, and he couldn't take it much longer. If he died now, he would be relieved of the pain... The only thing that kept him holding on to his life was the thought of Hermione. But he would never see Hermione again, so why hope?

The Dementors sucked out the happiness in him that had started as he remembered his dormitory partner. He shook his head, shivering, and sat down.

He pleaded desperately with nature to kill him there and then, but nothing happened. The Dementors took another rattling breath, taking his energy again.

He felt like he was going mad. Sad thoughts replayed endlessly in his head, and he could barely remember anything happy in his life.

"No... I don't want this anymore," Draco murmured decisively to himself, gasping for breath, and hauled himself over to pick up a sharp rock.

"Good-bye," he whispered, jabbing the rock at his chest with all the force he could muster. Draco relished the pain; it was a lot nicer than the depressing thoughts running in his head.

His body fell softly, his head hitting the cold stone floor. He lay flat on his back, his breathing shallow. The world spun out of focus.

The fire in his gray eyes became ashes as his life ebbed away.

oOoOo

_I wish you were here!_ Hermione said, frustrated. Her hand was sore from writing so much.

It was still the same day, at 10 P.M. It surprised Hermione when she looked at the clock; she'd been talking to Draco for the whole day now.

He didn't reply for a few moments.

_Are you there? _she asked anxiously, flopping onto her bed tiredly, waiting for a reply.

"Yeah, I am," a painfully familiar voice said behind her.

Hermione leapt up and spun around, her heart racing, to see the source of the voice and screamed as she saw the pale pointed face she'd come to love. "Who are you?" she yelled.

Draco winced. "Don't you remember me?"

"Yeah... but... but how? You're dead! You've been dead since the first time we talked in your diary!" Hermione choked out.

"Which was January 2, yes." Draco smiled at her calmly. "I told you to keep talking to me in the diary, remember? Now I have enough energy to come out of the diary. So I'm here."

Hermione's mouth was open. "I - I ..."

"You've said some pretty deep things to me," he smirked, a flash of red appearing briefly in his gray eyes. Hermione squinted at them but decided immediately that it was a trick of the light. "Thanks for telling me all that."

She blushed furiously. "I missed you," she said and went to hug him, but he was still barely there. He was translucent, kind of like a ghost but more solid than that.

"Give me some time to get energy, okay? I'll be solid soon, I think." Draco took a few breaths of air. "I haven't been able to do _that_ in the diary."

Hermione smiled at him. "You're finally back! I have a friend now!"

"Yes, you do." He grinned too. "It's good to be back. Everything still looks the same."

"Of course it does." Suddenly, Hermione had a thought. "Wait - you're ... you're not a ghost, are you?"

"No, I'm the real me." He crossed his arms.

She breathed a sigh of relief. "I just can't believe it ... You're here ..."

"I expected to be here earlier, if only you talked to me more."

"Oh, sorry... I have so much schoolwork. We're having our N. E. W. T. s soon, are you going to do them?" she asked, eyes lighting up.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "They all think I'm dead, remember? And ... I haven't learnt much while I was in the diary."

"Oh ... right."

They sat down in the common room next to the fire. Hermione looked at his sleeve.

"Hey, where's the quilt patch?" she asked, moving closer to inspect it.

He jerked his arm away. "I ... I don't know." Seeing that he was uncomfortable with the subject, Hermione decided to drop it.

"How have you been? Was it hard to be in the diary? What did it feel like?" Hermione couldn't help asking.

Draco grimaced. "I've been better, I guess. I didn't like the diary much, it was like a cage. I could only talk when you opened the diary, and if you closed it, I'd be shut in the darkness. Thank goodness I'm not claustrophobic," he laughed.

She smiled too. "Should we tell Dumbledore about this?" she asked.

His eyes flashed red again. "Uh, no," he mumbled. "I don't ... really want him to know."

"All right."

A few minutes passed. Hermione sighed reminiscently. "Remember when we were enemies, and Harry and Ron were my best friends?"

He gave her a look. "Why would you want to remember that?"

"I don't know, that's how I've known you for the past six years..."

"Are you sad that Harry and Ron aren't your best friends anymore?" he asked quietly.

Hermione frowned. "Yeah... I don't even know if we're still friends. We don't talk."

"That's too bad."

"Yeah."

There was silence again, but it was comfortable silence. Yet somehow Hermione had a strange feeling that it wasn't the same comfortable silence she'd felt when the real, living Draco was beside her.

oOoOo

Draco's soul left his body in Azkaban, floating past the Dementors and the guards. He quickly drifted all the way to Hogwarts and through the doors.

He knew the life of his translucent self was only a few hours - he was guessing two, probably - and he wanted to talk to Hermione before his time was up.

Hurrying through the halls, trying not to be seen, he rushed into the Head dormitory as fast as he could. Reaching the door, he paused as he heard two voices. The first he recognized as Hermione's, and he smiled. The other was very familiar ... too familiar ...

Draco drifted into the room. "Hey, Hermione!" he called, floating right up to her and grinning at her shocked expression. He was so glad to see her that he couldn't take his eyes off her.

Hermione turned around to face the diary Draco, eyes wide in confusion, and turned back to face the soul Draco. "Wait - what?"

"It's me, Draco Malfoy," Draco said impatiently. Azkaban had affected him so much that he still felt a little sad and depressed, even when he was a spirit.

"_You're_ Draco Malfoy?" she asked, disbelievingly.

He frowned. "What do you mean? Of course I am! Look, Hermione, I can't stay very long, so if you want to talk we have to talk fast -"

Hermione interrupted him, although she was still in a loss for words. "I - he - but -" she sputtered as she gestured at a figure that walked calmly to her side.

Another Draco Malfoy was staring at him levelly, his eyes carefully expressionless. Draco's eyes widened with confusion. He looked into his twin's eyes and saw words, thoughts, and feelings. "Diary..." Draco murmured.

"How about this, I call you diary Draco, and I call him, the one that just arrived, Draco?" asked Hermione to the Draco clone, now known as "Diary Draco", a twitchy smile forming on her lips.

Diary Draco did not take his eyes off of Draco's. "Hello," he said in the same silky tone Draco used when threatening others. "May I ask you who you are and what you are doing here?"

Draco looked into 'his' eyes again and saw a red glimmer swimming behind the pale grey. It gave his eyes a rosy tint, and he felt an apprehensive shudder.

"I'm Draco Malfoy. Who do you think_ you_ are?" Draco whispered, bobbing up and down in the air, trembling.

The other Draco smirked at him. "I think I'm Draco Malfoy."

* * *

**A/N: **WARNING - CHARACTER DEATH

Uh.. was my warning too late? Sorry.

Vanilla Cookie, as usual, beta-ed this chapter.

Thank you to all my readers and reviewers! You don't know how grateful I am!

I decided to update this story a little bit earlier thanks to Hinata and Bandit and all you wonderful readers.

I can only hope none of you hate me for... you know. Please, please keep reading. I assure you, it gets even more dramatic. But there are, yes, more character deaths. Just as a warning.

PLEASE REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! Even if you're angry... -muffled sob-

Love you all. Really.


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